


Alienation

by Milight



Series: We're Just Aliens Together [1]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: BAMF Gaz (Invader Zim), Competent Zim (Invader Zim), Dib & Zim Friendship (Invader Zim), Dissection, Experimentation, Fluff and Angst, Gaz Being Gaz (Invader Zim), Gen, Genius Dib, How Do I Tag, Oblivious Professor Membrane, Professor Membrane Tries to Be a Better Parent, Warnings May Change, Younger Dib, ZADF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:21:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 69,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23812225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milight/pseuds/Milight
Summary: Dib finds out what's lurking below his father's labs. He was giddy about it, but his perspective changes on it. Does he get what he wanted? Or for the sake of the other?Aka Dib found an alien being experimented.
Relationships: Dib & GIR (Invader Zim), Dib & Gaz (Invader Zim), Dib & Zim (Invader Zim), GIR & Zim (Invader Zim)
Series: We're Just Aliens Together [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1818295
Comments: 35
Kudos: 145





	1. IGE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to note that they still don't know each other. But Dib's obsession may have nerfed on this one.
> 
> Edit: This is where I spotted my small plot hole. So, I added something to make it much clearer. Very sorry righr there, my mind is the size of a walnut and forgetful.

Dib was about to complete his application on the group of The Swollen Eyeball until he was called by his father to come downstairs. Sighing, the young boy closed his laptop and wore his little red boots. He stored off the materials for his “Werewolf trap” to his plastic box inside his closet so he’ll have to work on later. He prepared his small suitcase that contained equipment of his very own adjustable stun gun, cheaply bought laser pointer, a compatible camera, and a small box of surgery tools, as usual. A paranormal investigator is always ready for the unexpected.

After the short minutes of arranging his bed properly, he was called again to go down. Dib complied, seeing he won’t have any interruptions to distract himself from going down to meet his father.

As he descended down the staircase, he saw his sister and Dad. Gaz is still busy gazing at her Game Slave, whilst his father is looking at him, a little displeased. Arms crossed, furrowed eyebrows, and the repetitive patting of his left foot made the obvious conclusion he’s upset. But that ended when he sighed in relief that his son was looking already packed.

“There you are, son. Now, let us go to the car! Quickly, my children!” Professor Membrane jovially said, encouraging his children to move along to the garage to their car. 

* * *

The Membrane family just arrived at their destination: The Membrane Labs.

Dib and Gaz aimlessly followed their dad. And when they entered the lobby, they were greeted by a lot of receptionists, doctors, and most scientists. There were some civilians, but probably there for some appointments of their father’s medical equipment. Professor greeted the receptionist with a loud glee then told her that his kids are going with him for today. Because Dib just knew that it was “Take your kid to work” day.

“Welcome! To the Halls of Science!” Dad shouted as the three entered the long hallway full of white doors. The tiles were just as any normal hospitals would have but cleaner. Scientists were everywhere. Some were frantic on their works, stumbling to every door. Others were chilling outside, talking. There were no colored-clothed people, all was just black shirts with white lab coats. 

“Can civilians even enter here, Dad?” Dib asked, but not bothered with the people around them have lab coats.

His father shook his head, laughing at the silly question, “Why of course not, son. This is a strictly prohibited area. Only staff professionals can enter this hall with hall passcards.” He scrounged up a seemingly old white card from his pockets and gave it to Dib. 

“But I am an exception! Of course, I own this place after all.”

Dib accepted it and observed the details. “What about Gaz and I? Can’t we have these to enter too?”

The professor laughed, “Oh son, we can’t have young children working. For you will have this when you two get older. Then you, my boy child-“ He kneeled one leg and put his gloved hand to his son’s shoulder.

“You will be able to take the legacy of bringing this company to a bigger length! You will be able to save lives better than I ever could do!” He gestured the people and the whole building around them.

Dib stiffened at the thought of it though. He didn’t want his life filled with stacks of papers and numerous failed experiments every day. “But dad, I have a different life to pursue.” He slid his father’s hand off his shoulder, standing greatly in front of him. “I want to do something different than anyone could ever do. I want to be a paranormal investigator, dad. A person who can discover rare and peculiar creatures in and out of Earth!” He emphasized the last one, but unfortunately, his dad just laughed it off as if it was a silly joke.

“Son, someday you will know what it’s like to help other people because these living creatures-“ He gestured to the window where it showed the view of half of the city they lived in. “Their lives depended on us.”

Dib was about to argue but brushed it off when his dad ruffled his hair. 

“Now it is not the time to waste. For we have a long tour today,” He said, moving away from the conversation. Dib deflated, failed to reach his dad’s approval of his dream.

So they trudged through the long hallway, with dad’s guidance of talking about the works of the Membrane Labs.

Gaz wasn’t to keen on listening to dad, hence her trance on her game console. Dib finished observing the card after the few minutes of their tour and just paid attention to Professor Membrane. Though, he wasn’t really paying attention to him as much. He wasn’t that fascinated with his father’s works. Rather, he would be fascinated at the use of his works to create traps and weapons for his paranormal investigation. Supposedly, he set a schedule for his hunting spree on a Werewolf by tomorrow, which was today. This was to prove that he could be in the organization of The Swollen Eyeball- the group of hidden agents trying to prove the paranormals of the Earth and possibly outside it. He could just delay the application and the hunt for a day or two since he forgot that it is the day of taking them to Membrane Labs today.

When his dad continued talking on some of the purposes inside these doors, Dib suddenly sparked an idea. “Hey, Dad?” Dib called.

Professor Membrane stopped his ramblings and looked upon his little son. “Yes, son?”

“I was wondering…”

“Professor Membrane!”

He didn’t get to ask him as he got cut off by two scientists. One is in awe and the other is professionally calm. “Professor, I have come for news for you,” the calm guy informed, taking a clean written paper from the other awed scientist.

“Oh my God, you’re pro-professor Membrane. It is very nice to meet you,” the giddy scientist held out his hand to him in excitement. Professor Membrane raised an eyebrow at the gesture but shrugged it off with shaking his hand. Dib watched as the more serious man sighed in little irritation.

“Forgive me, professor. This is my new assistant. Very young.”

“How old?” His dad simply asked.

“He’s nearing twenty-three, boss.”

The professor hummed in satisfaction, letting the man continue his announcement.

Dib heard about his dad needing at a convention and something of his works. Nothing was exciting about the conversation, so he took a walk through the halls. He wasn’t that far from his father so that he won’t be lost or have trouble being lost. 

He went past his dad and the scientists to see in front of him. There is a double-door that has a danger sign beside. Dib looked around and saw no one entering that specific door after the few minutes of observing.

“That’s weird, I’ve seen the place but never saw this door before,” Dib thought out loud. True, he had seen Membrane Labs for years now. Despite his father forgetting that Dib knew about the layout of the place, he would still try to listen to him earlier for anything to hear interesting to use. Now, it seemed like his dad kept secrets about this double-door because Dib would know if something renovates on the Membrane Labs on the news.

Dib got thrown in little excitement of his own.

What would be inside that door? Is it for tools for dissection? Highly-powered gun blasters? Experiments on living organisms? Or maybe electrified traps that have high voltage? Oh my gosh, dad- wait. If this is strictly prohibited to enter, then dad wouldn’t allow us to go in there, would he?

Dib stopped his train of thought and sighed disappointedly.

Maybe.

After all, he’s too young to see horrible things, as adults have said to him.

“Dib!”

The boy heard his father call. He gazed at the double-door one last time before running back to the professor.

“Children, we may have to postpone the time a while for our little tour,” Membrane said, surprising Dib with dejected eyes.

_Now I'm never gonna know inside the double-door._

“What? Why?”

The tall man looks down at Dib with a reluctant sigh. “I have a three-hour meeting today that I may have completely forgotten. It is very important adult talk, Dib. But don’t worry, just go to the 5th floor and have fun eating there instead. I have to go.” Professor Membrane quickly walked out of the halls with the two scientists trailing behind him. Dib couldn’t ask much further because he knows he’ll say “later, son.”

It’s always like that.

However, Dib wasn’t giving up on finding those weapons for a great chance of his hunt.

“Alright…” Dib went near the double-door, glad he’s still being ignored by people who were a lot taller than him. “How do I get in?” He saw no card swipe or passcodes to put in. Surely, there must be a hidden scanner or box of puzzled passwords to solve.

“What are you looking at?” 

Dib tilted his head to see his little sister behind him. She’s looking very annoyed while she played expertly at her game. He doesn’t know why she’s pissed at him though.

“You know Dad’s gonna ground at us for you getting lost again in this building,” Gaz snarled. Dib understood. He knew that if he caused trouble, his dad would ground both of them even though Gaz hadn’t done anything. One time, he was already knocked down by her after the 3rd time in a row of grounding in a week just because she couldn’t attend the gaming convention at the time. He earned a slight bruise for years at his right arm but didn’t mind. Only he did mind when Gaz is readying her attacks if he violates her gaming trance.

“Don’t worry, Gaz. I’ll come back on the 5th floor just like Dad said. I completely know the layout except for this one,” Dib enthused, pointing out the door in front.

“In which you would get lost,” Gaz pointed out.

“Gaz, come on. Back me up one this time. Just give me a 1-hour run inside then I’ll come without being red-handed.”

Gaz’s eyes narrowed pointedly at him, which lessened his confidence at doing it. “And what would be the offer given?”

Dib thought about the stuff Gaz liked: Beating him up, insulting him, getting a new Game Slave, Vampire Piggy Slayer, and pizza at Bloaty’s.

He crossed out the game console and the game because he couldn’t afford them. He most likely rejected the beating and insulting. Maybe-

“Um- we could have our family nights at Bloaty’s for 2 years?”

Gaz wasn't satisfied.

“3 years.”

Nope.

“Alright! 8 years. Is it a deal now?”

Gaz contemplated with her uncomfortable angry silence and Dib awkwardly biting his lip of her approval. Finally, Gaz silently sighed. “Fine.”

Dib lightened up his face with newfound excitement. “That’s great! Now could you help me with this?” He asked as he gestured the door.

“Why would I? You said this deal only pays back for the faults you’ve done by being grounded,” Gaz said while continuing playing her game.

“But Gaz, please. Just help me with this. I promise I won’t bother you when I go on a hunting spree. Just can you please help me with this?” Dib pleaded, little desperate to know what’s inside the door. Of course, he would be engulfed with imaginations of what could be inside that door. It seemed like its top priority stuff that could help him for his hunt. 

Gaz played with the silence of her own, besides the scientist chattering behind them. Until she lost the game.

Gaz gazed up from Dib to the door. She continued to stare at it and Dib, looking like she's helping how to unlock the door.

That is when Gaz simply just turned the knob to open the big doors with ease. Dib gaped with surprised confusion. “Wha-What? What?”

“You’re an idiot for not thinking the logic.”

“Bu-But I thought there was-“

“Shut up and go before you lose your hour and complain at me.”

Dib watched Gaz walked off the hallways to the elevator. He murmured a thanks to her despite her being far away. Shrugging, he went into the unknown door.

He saw another hall, but an incredibly short one. To Dib, it was the distance of the height of the one-storey house. There were only four doors by side, and all weren’t the same doors from before in the previous long hallway. When he goes near one of the doors, the sound of an alarm beep was short and showed a small device beside it. Smiling, he removed his bag off his shoulders and scrambled to get his tablet and cables. He stuck up the magnetic cable at the center of the device, and deviously typed in one of his favored hacking techniques.

* * *

It was decent but felt boring.

All Dib found was some of his father’s works from years ago that he had shown to him when he was a toddler. They weren’t of use to him for investigating paranormal. Most of them were friendly weapons used for children to be aware of something specific that talks about the awareness of their community. Some of them were about the protection of the animals. Others were synthetic parts of humans and animals. Only a few of them had a purpose for him though. One of them was vials that Dib knew to be his father’s different potions. He has the knowledge which one has a purpose since he observed his dad experimenting with all of them.

Another he found of use was another stun gun. The watts were perfect enough to neutralize a bear, better than he has. Electric shock can also be adjusted, to Dib’s relief of safety.

And then, there's a Botulinum toxin. One of dad’s vials. Nothing useful but in some cases, it might.

After rummaging more into the room by room, that was all he had use for.

“What a bummer,” he sighed dejectedly as he leaned on the wall. He may have all these stuff, but it won’t do good much for the long run if he got accepted at The Swollen Eyeball. What if they’ll send him to go for a 5-day hunt on Bigfootaurus? Can he even survive in the woods at night for that long? Or maybe hunt for a vampire? Werewolves? Brain-Erasing Ghosts? What if he won’t have the equipment to capture those monsters? Will he prevail? 

Growling in indignation, he threw out something- possibly useless -from his suitcase outright to the end of the hall.

In which it produced an echoed clang.

Dib perked up, looking at the end of the hall, thinking if he heard it right.

Out of curiosity, he stood up, picked up his little suitcase, and walked off to the end.

When he arrived to see the object he had thrown on the wall and the wall that made a metal clang. Dib held out his hand with a clenched fist, knocking on the wall to identify the wall material.

Apparently, it was proved to be metal, unlike the other walls Dib had felt. The boy knew of the wall material that the building and this hallway have, and those are painted brick walls.

He then noticed faint little straight lines that connect to form a large rectangle. The boy touched the lines and felt there were gaps.

Gaps…

“A door,” Dib mumbled at the realization, stepping back to fully see the big door in front of him.

Filled with the utmost determination of uncovering secrets, he fiddled the whole wall with his hands, possibly trying to find access to the door.

Just as it took him five minutes of search, an object appeared beside the door that came out of the wall. Dib was startled by the sudden appearance but froze when the object- no- the camera created a red holographic scan at his whole body. The young paranormal gulped with anticipation and anxiety, not knowing what to do in a situation an unknown camera scans him. The scanning stopped though, red aura disappearing from the hall. 

Dib thinks of all the possibilities the camera scan could result in. A quick alarm to Membrane’s or a surprise trap due to the wrong person to scan with was most likely. Obviously his dad would be very much allowed here since this is his building. 

A few seconds later, the metal door slid open to the left, showing a small metered room that surprised Dib. He didn’t expect it to open. “Huh, I can be accessed,” Dib scrunched, the confusion over his face were much more of the suspiciousness that he shouldn’t be here. Or maybe he can? His dad didn’t say something that his children could avoid. But that became vague when he was taken from a forgotten scheduled meeting.

Without another thought interrupted, he giddily stepped in with his suitcase.

That’s when he knew this was an elevator.

Of all the things that could be pressed, he chose the unfamiliar floor.

A button named “IGE”

Pressing the button with caution, he prepared himself as the elevator closed.

It went down, faster than the average speed of an elevator. Dib had to hold on the handles to keep him from floating.

* * *

Dib arrived at his destination. 

“What the-“

All he could see when it opened, was a long series of different hallways. They weren’t your average house hallways, but more like a large laboratory one with metal walls and futuristic designs. The lightings were barely holding any light, but they looked to be functioning properly. It felt like it came from a horror movie. However, Dib was an experienced kid. He learned to invent his own weaponry at the age of three and doing mechanical engineering at the age of seven. Some dark hallways won’t stop his search for something new and strange.

And so he wandered off, cautiously. Of course, one of Dad’s scientists or just generally some scientists would be here roaming around. Dad has some involvement in this secret lab in some way. It's his building after all. The fact that his father never told him about his after saying to him that he would prepare his adulthood by knowing his building more is a real secret that the scientists outside may or may not know about this.

It was then he realized his own thoughts have been making him zone out when he heard the clacking of formal shoes that sounded a horde of people talking. In a panic, Dib frantically looked around him to see anything useful.

And thank god, there was a vent just at the wall on his right, reachable and largely fitting for his small size.

* * *

He didn’t know when is the time anymore. He spent his crawling to the vents for like ages, and yet he found no hatches. Besides the oxygen can still be reached from the enclosed series of vents, Dib felt constricted. All those enclosed vents had some sort of security laser or sensors and invisible locks that cannot be accessed. Maybe, next time that he’ll have to be more prepared for this.

_And just hope I do have a next time,_ He thought to himself.

He had been in here for a long time, Gaz would be fuming right now at the upcoming punishment their dad could give them (and it’s always being grounded.) and her own punishment to him. Shivering at the thought, he moved further, wanting to get out of the vents as much as possible. His aching arms and legs were wearing out, tired from the crawling. But he refused to give up to get out. He too had forgotten where his suitcase ended up. After the scientists were heard from his direction, that was when he immediately jumped to the vents, crawling along with his scrawny little legs and arms could muster. His suitcase was gone from the long hall of vents. Dib didn’t mind that until he remembered he had been holding something.

But that was hours ago, at least that’s what he concluded, the case won’t be going anywhere soon. That little carrier is one of his priorities, but he’ll just have to ask his dad when he’ll be caught sooner. Right now, his goal in mind is to get out of the vents.

Dib kept his pace faster with balanced breathing. His sweaty palms engraved on the vent floor, the condensed water of sweat stuck.

It didn’t take it too long that his luck pushed on the positive. Dib saw a glimmer of lighting and cool air right in front of him.

An enclosed vent. His way out.

Happily, he unscrewed the screws, enabling the boy to quietly open the vent cover. He smiled more, glad that it hasn’t had any locks or sensors.

Putting it beside, he peered his head out.

“Oh my god”

Inside the room, there is a big glass containment. Around were just stone walls and panel controls and said unknown symbols on the screens. There were no windows, and seemingly no doors. But Dib knew better.

However, those were not that piqued his interest. The very inside of the large containment laid a green, pubescent body. Wearing nothing but a hospital gown, its back was stuck with several tubes to an unspecified machine. It is breathing heavily, and its eyes are closed.

And the evidence that proved this is a much different species were no ears, full-colored green, and a pair of antennae on its head.

This isn’t a _human_ at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes, I did make Dib younger than his 12-year-old stage. I've been wanting a younger Dib because there's so many Older Dib already. So, surprise surprise!


	2. Who Are You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their first meeting.

Dib bore his dilated eyes at the unconscious alien. He never _ever_ really expected an extraterrestrial to be here at his father’s lab. Sure, he could expect some lab rats here and there, maybe unidentified weaponry at the side, and his odd machines.

But never this one. An _alien._ The supernatural creature that his dad won’t believe in.

Ignoring the fact that Dad didn't believe him, (This would be future Dib's problem. Just not now. His mind is too occupied of paranormal excitement), he was beaming with childishness and the giddiness to examine it further. He didn’t hesitate to quietly open the screws, standing upon the grey stoned floor with ease, despite how much that landing hurts to his wobbly legs and kneecaps since he had been on all fours for quite a long time.

He made sure that he was hidden from the alien’s view, in case of it screaming or lashing out in alarm that may be notified by the people inside this facility. 

Dib tiptoed near the large confinement. That is where he can see the backside of the creature. It wore a long blue hospital gown, making the alien look very small and pitiful. Luckily, it was that long that it draped over its back completely. He also sees the small tubes plugged on the back of its head. There were bruises, mostly looking cuts littered around its arms and some of it from the legs. There may be more since the hospital gown is almost covering the bottom part of the alien. It seemed like it was unconscious, unheard of its surroundings. Or maybe it's aware, because he can't see its face.

Dib was still and fine, observing the green creature, up to the point a clang of Dib’s screwdriver fell to the floor. 

Fear and anxiety spiked through the boy’s veins immediately, instincts driving his body as he instantly twisted and turned around. 

But he found no hiding spots. 

Dib’s eyes widened even more, worry that in any moment either the securities or the alie- 

“ **Who**. **Are**. **You**?” 

Dib froze, seemingly time stopping from his sight when the foreign voice spoke to him. A hollow and evil one too. 

“I said who are you?! You small puny smeet!” 

He can hear the banging of one’s fist to the thick window, sounding very livid that it scared him.

Is it gonna eat humans? Is it gonna rage like a hostile animal? Or will it tear a person limb by limb?

After another several banging that he can visualize the glass cracking, Dib did finally conclude to his thought. And that brought the view of the stun gun on his hand, and tilted his whole body to confront the menace. 

He turned to see the alien’s face first. It was still covered with tubes and cuts, looking as if it's the like a poor victim that had been tortured terribly. Its antennae were bent, either broken or the emotion identification, like if the animals' ears were to function. The body in front has the hospital gown sewn on the front. It was a lazy sewn square, that it looked like it was an opening for experimenting its insides just like how surgery works. Dib looked at the expression next, and it was fuming in distaste and anger. The eyes were not like Dib’s or other of his species, but magenta colored. Its teeth were round and patterned.

The height of it though, dissolves the fear from Dib when the alien is just a foot or two taller than him. Making it a look of a twelve-year-old boy. 

“You-You’re an alien,” Dib muttered out loud. 

The creature narrowed its light yet cold crimson eyes, its fists growing tighter. Dib instinctively turned the gun on. That was when Dib regained his confidence. 

“Stay back, you alien scum,” He hissed, slowly walking towards the glass wall where the opposite side was where the creature is.

if the looks could kill, Dib would be a lying corpse if it weren’t for the container. 

“You could not kill me even if _you_ wanted to, Urth smeet!” The alien screeched. 

“I’m not afraid to use it when I do get a chance,” Dib replied with trepidation. The only factor that could ruin his confidence is that his expertise in confronting with weaponry isn’t much of his forte yet. Mostly, he would just rely on technology to do the trick. Unfortunately, Dib didn’t have those by his side right now. 

There was a long, straining silence between the two. The alien’s breathing can be seen through the glass as it vapors, while Dib glares at him fiercely.

It was then Dib got impatient with the waiting game. 

“Why are you here on Earth?” Dib asked, still aiming his stun gun directly at it. The green creature didn’t dare blink its eyes once, as if it is observing him his every move. But the least is that he answers. 

“Plotting domination of your stoopid planet!” The alien banged its clenched fists on the endurable glass wall, this time it was harder. Dib smirked in slight amusement, “Too bad you’ve been caught by our ‘stoopid' planet’s best defenders.” Dib mocked the accent of its word, which made it angrier. 

“Don’t you dare mess with me. For I AM ZIM! THE GREATEST INVADER OF ALL!” The alien screamed with devilish confidence and a tinge of anger.

Dib couldn’t process fast enough when the sound of a mechanical sliding door opened. 

Unable to move from the shock of discovery, the men restrained him with small cuffs on his hands, dragging him away from the containment. He accidentally dropped his stun gun, and just stayed there on the ground until a scientist came up and put it to his pocket. He staggered from the quick movements the men were dragging him. The alien was still screeching, making an extreme tantrum that even spoiled brats couldn’t compete. He sees as the scientists just held something and fumbled with it, resulting in the alien in front of them to be silenced with… something of an electric shock? 

But he wasn’t able to see more when the doors closed shut. He was still being dragged, but he could easily try to catch up his feet with them. For the longest time of walking through twists and turns of claustrophobic hallways, Dib and the men had entered an office. Where it stood in the center was a middle-aged man with a typical formal suit and his neutral business looks. Furrowed eyebrows, frowning lips, and blank eyes always boring into one’s client. 

Dib now realizes that he was caught red-handed. 

“Dib Membrane, a pleasure to meet you. My name’s Henry Winslow. Come on in.” Mr. Winslow smiled as he was walking towards the boy, while the said kid stepped back. He tried not to show his fear in his eyes when his father and sister might find out because this man might rat him out. “Sir, I-“ 

“No need to explain yourself, boy. Guards, will you please let go of this poor child?” Dib scowled a little at his name at him.

_Poor child? I live with the greatest scientist of all._

The guards began to release him and pushed him near their boss, then walking away to guard the exit. Dib couldn’t get out straight ahead, and that made him sigh in frustration. He looked back at the man, still smiling with his hands properly tucked behind his back. “Come on, let us sit,” He said. 

Dib just complied, defeated. He sat on a supposed client chair with the man trailing to sit down on his own chair. His arms placed on his desk and stared at the boy, who just shifted uncomfortably and avoiding eye-contact. “I must say, I’m quite impressed you managed to find out about our… well…” He motioned his hands to the whole room. “Our little secret.” 

“Does my dad knows about this?” Dib asked, shaking as he glanced upon the man who had caught him. “About this whole operation on a supernatural creature which most of the people believed is false?” 

The man chuckled back, “Why of course! He was the one who started this whole operation of ours. We were delighted we were the few who have chosen to be kept secret about this.” 

“Does the government know?” 

“No, child. We wouldn’t be able to have out alien here at this facility if we did. They always send them to Area 51. Then we would have no jobs at all.” 

Dib glanced slowly to his back, where the exit door is. “Mr-Mr. Winslow, Are you sure you could keep it tame? Th-The alien, I mean. We have a city around us. Wouldn’t it be safer to keep it away from the citizens near the building?” 

Henry shook in reply. “Boy, do you think your father isn’t quite capable of handling situations like this? He had everything under control in and only in here. He had everything planned. And it’s quite a long and complicated one to explain. So…” He clapped, as if to sign the questions ended. “Let us talk about what to do with you.” 

Dib gulped, his planned distractions didn’t work. He thought if he questions and he answers, he would have the time to scan the room for any exits. Apparently, he wasn’t too concealed about his motives. 

“Are you going to tell my dad?” 

To his surprise, the man laughed and shook his head. “No, no, no. We aren’t going to!” 

“Why not?” 

“Dib, as much as I want to since of your many violations from coming to this underground, your father would be very displeased with our work and would - the chances are - to be kicked out especially from his children.” Henry sighed. 

“You’re saying, I get to be free with no consequences?” 

“Apparently, so.” 

He couldn’t believe it. 

“But!” 

He knew he couldn’t believe it so easily. 

“If you ever enter this facility once more, I will not hesitate for you to be punished by your father despite firing us. We have morals here, boy.” 

Dib deflated from the chair. That meant going here would be difficult to do. It was a shame though, he really wanted to observe the alien again. He had been waiting for that in his whole lifetime of paranormal studies. But he will have to wait for another decade to reach the legal age of going in here. 

_What. A. Bummer._

“Now, gentlemen. Would you please escort this child?” Henry stood up and clapped his hands twice as if to signal them into action. Dib was yet again pulled away from the office room, where he left Mr. Winslow drinking his mug. 

Dib was thrown out of the door where it all started. Scoffing that they didn't return the gun, the boy turned and walked away from them. He reached the floor where his sister was, and found her on the empty canteen table, back facing him, playing her game. Dib reluctantly stepped near Gaz, obviously not wanting to be punished at the long wait. He knew he had lasted longer than an hour in the vents and then some searching dad’s things before he found the secret elevator. 

Dib sat quietly on the almost empty table where Gaz occupied. He sensed that Gaz knows he’s here, so he gulped and started to speak. “So, uh, funny story-“ 

“Don’t,” Gaz cut him up sternly, which Dib obeyed. “The question is: Did you get caught?” 

“I-I was about to say tha-“ 

Gaz viciously glared at him. 

“Answer it.” 

“Okay! Okay! I wasn’t but technically was.” 

“Dib…” 

“The man who was probably in-charge there freed me without telling dad, okay? He said like keep it a secret or they get fired. Does that count as a foul?” Dib sheepishly asked, shrugging a little. 

Gaz was glaring at him for a few seconds before playing again. He heard her huff, but that was it. The conversation ended. Which meant Dib was safe from the punishment. 

He sighed in relief, resting his head down at the table. He glanced at the people, or most scientists on their break, chatting and buying food which reminded him of Skool except the cleanliness it provided. He looked at the food choices on the front, but Dib wasn’t really all that hungry from the hours of adventuring the vents. All he puts his focus now is the alien. And his plan on going back to interrogate it. This time, hopefully, he will get what he needs for his application at The Swollen Eyeball. 

And also bringing his suitcase back. 

* * *

A week later, Dib had it all prepared. His modified taser, His snacks, his whole set of the toolbox, his small camera, and a grappling hook just in case. All in one small blue backpack he used in school. He contemplated about signing for the application, either he tries to go prove about those monsters he had just seen a couple of years ago, or later for real proof of an alien. Then decided on the second option, he turned off the laptop and scurried away downstairs. 

His father wasn’t in for breakfast again this weekend, as he had told him about another meeting. So taking permission from his father to go to his building isn’t going to be a problem anymore. After all, if he did, his father would just alert the staff to take him to the room of children’s area or a library of scientific books. Dib shuddered. He hated being babied. 

He went out without talking to Gaz. As much as he wanted to tell her, she would just shut him up and earn kick away from her room. 

Tightly holding his backpack, he trailed off the streets alone. 

* * *

It has been FOREVER! 

Staying in this forcefield-looking box and waiting for something to happen is just utter idiocy! And Zim doesn’t stand for it! Every hour of experimentation on his body, interrogation, and his PAK is nowhere to be seen. They must've been budging with it as well. This is an agonizing cycle.

And he still hasn’t seen his robot slave, GIR. After the humans bombarded his base, they separated him from GIR and just raided his belongings everywhere. His computer was shut down before the chaos happened. Zim was angrier and just attacked all of them. But then he was caught off guard and here he is. Imprisonment from one of the weakest species to date. 

It is _humiliating._

And he hates humiliation, especially underestimating his greatness. 

But that time when a new human came in, Zim was suspicious and curious. The human was small and has a big head. With a head accessory of zigzag fur. The human has big eye wideners that Zim learned from watching more weaker, filthier, and skinnier humans at his holographic screen, or what they call 'televisions'. It was also small, shorter, and smaller than the other humans he had seen. Thankfully, the human isn’t as tall as him. That made his mind a bit alleviated that he could show his superiority to that puny child. Unfortunately, that specific human smeet is smarter and braver than any human smeets he encountered back when he was still blending with the lifeforms in a place so-called skool. Zim hates to admit it, but nevertheless, that brat won’t overpower the superiority of Zim’s intelligence. If he ever comes back- 

“Subject Z,” The tall human called, who usually keeps checking on him. Zim looked up at the human, glaring with great resentment. The human did not speak more, as he somehow opened the metal door and entered. The alien growled, scurrying away near the human. However, the human did not mind one bit and removed the tubes from his frail body. Zim automatically recoiled from the sudden removal. His “man-made” lifeline had been the only thing that was good for him. It kept him alive for the longest time in this ugly facility. 

It was then he was dragged yet again for another routine of tests. 

One day, one day, they will all pay back. 

* * *

Dib easily sneaked through the halls. With his fully-functioning cloaking device, he won’t be noticed by the cameras if he sees so. The problem with it is the high drainage of its battery, so he’ll have to move fast to get to the good ol’ vents. 

After trudging to the specific double-door, he checked around with his x-ray glasses to see any heat signatures or cameras to hack on. A smirk peeled off his seriousness when he noticed there was no security.

“Pfft, ‘everything under control’ my genius brain, Dad,” He muttered through his breath. 

He stepped to the secret elevator and descended down. 

Immediately, he went inside the vents that still hasn’t been locked or secured. A faint scoff and a roll of his eyes proved to be that Winslow’s words were lies. 

He crawled to the vents. He made sure he won’t be starved and bored throughout the whole crawl to the alien containment room. 

“Restrain it! Now!” 

Dib paused, just halfway from the vent he entered. He gazed upon his left side, which is another trail of the vent pipe. The voice was distant but loud and frantic. There were multiple voices, one was deafeningly screaming and the other shouting clearly. With that, he shifted to another pathway.

* * *

Zim was screaming bloody murder as he was dragged to the room he hates the most.

The man was strong to keep Zim from getting to his guts. It frustrates him that he wasn’t control of this situation every time he gets to be experimented by these human amateurs. 

“LET GO OF ZIM!” 

“Restrain it! Now!” 

Just as he and the man entered the room, Zim was pinned down by the white metallic table. The human who dragged him strapped his arms and legs with metal cuffs stuck to the table. He put another set of tubes to the top of his head. Zim’s blood had been re-energized again, and he was ready for lashing out. The other human picked up something from his desk. Zim tried to spy on whatever they planned onto him again but found futile when his neck was also strapped tightly. Focusing on his breathing stability, he wasn’t prepared when they began getting their scalpel and syringe. 

It was long excruciating hours of testing his guts and blood. Zim found it very painful and scary, but not enough to make him quiet from making loud screeching complaints. He wanted to make the humans suffer from his ear-splitting wrath, wanting to enjoy the suppressing anger the humans given him. But he can’t, because he’s busy from trying to escape another agonizing experimentation. 

Supposedly, Zim was one who would the torturing and experimenting, considering he needed the anatomy and behavior of the territory he would conquer. That failed badly. Luckily, Zim refused to give up. This is for the Tallest, the Irken empire that he would make for honorable Irken soldiers in the universe. He _needs_ to win. All he needs is a pla- 

“ARGH!” Zim cries in pain, even though he's trying so hard not to. The alien tried to squirm and turn, wanting the torture to stop. He didn’t know how much time he spent laying on this table, suffering horribly from the species he was supposed to enslave. The other human chuckled quite darkly. “I’ll make this worse for you if you keep screaming.” 

Zim snarled, “As if I would ever listen to a stoopid species! I will never follow you!” Then the pain got more… well, painful. Zim screamed in terror and anger. The human who dragged him had some sort of reading screen but not transparent. It was named as a "clip bored", he has no idea why would they name like that, it’s stupid. He has a writing material holding on his right hand, seemingly observing him then writing something at the clip bored, looking really bored. The human who kept prodding at his guts was finished, sighing with satisfaction as he went back to his desk. Zim couldn’t see the human since he can’t move his body to the side from preventing his blood and guts to fall out, or just too weak and tired to do so. He heard shuffling and rummaging through some metal clinks.

That stopped when he heard the footsteps coming towards him once more. He looked at the human that was holding a small, sharp sort of knife and a cylindrical thingy that's been wrapped with a long string, that he knew before that it was for the purpose of sewing their clothes. 

“I’m afraid we’ll have to end our session for today. It was fun, subject Z,” The human smirked. 

Zim just stopped his screeching and just death-glared the humans, all the while he tried keeping his mind and body awake. 

Another usual day for all of them.

they took off the straps from him, and Zim attempted to scuttle away. But they knew better, one cuffing his arms again and the other harshly dragging him through the halls.

Zim audibly winced as the human roughly threw him inside his containment. The alien couldn’t move his body. His limbs were all sluggish from the drugs they injected inside. The human walked past him and held up the tubes. Zim couldn’t stop him from putting them on each part of his body, but all he could do was growl weakly. 

After that, the human stood up and looked at the alien. “You better be ready for another interrogation, alien scum.” 

Zim just huffed angrily. 

He walked away and closed the containment, leaving Zim alone with an uncomfortable position to rest. 

Zim turned over to gaze at the bland ceiling, glaring at it as if it was its fault. He always hated everything the humans do, mostly the experimentations. The check-ups were violating his only space of privacy. The interrogations were not that bad, as he enjoyed the frustrated faces of his enemies when he kept babbling about his glorifying introduction. However, those electric shocks always dampen his mood afterward. It did not help when the thoughts swarmed every time he gets to remember what he was supposed to do on the planet. The Tallest being displeased at his failure, the Irken soldiers belittling his title of “honor”, and the sudden fear of humans knowing the insides of his base and obliterating them. That way, he would have no contact outside the planet or messaging his leaders.

Zim's squeedilyspooch churned secretly for whatever happened to his robot slave. At this point, Gir would have been dismantled, with the humans searching his memories for any useful information to defeat the alien. Gir would just be scrapped and remains from the sadistic hands of these filthy humans. 

Zim attempted to sit up but his arms failed him. He just hummed angrily. 

That is, until he heard a small clank. 

Zim perked, weakly titled his head to the side. 

It was the human smeet again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes! A Zim POV! This is the first but not the last of it.


	3. We Meet Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dib meets him again.

Dib hitched his breath when the alien stared at him. Its gaze towards him is like glaring daggers to his soul. It took both of them for an awkward silence to speak. 

“Why’re yOu hrr?” The alien slurred. Dib immediately guessed it was drugged. 

The boy inhaled deeply, then carefully went near the containment. And as he was doing that, the alien limply scuttled backward, sneering at him in disgust. Dib took a moment to view at it fully. The alien was still injected with the tubes, the bruises and stitches got more visible, and the skin really, _really_ seemed like its lacking blood to fulfill its paleness. Dib felt something he never wanted to have in front of an unusual enemy. 

Dib sighed in shame, and said, “Are you gonna attack me if I open the lock?” 

It just stared at the boy, that seemed to understand his question. But all he got was a groan of exasperation.

“You gon fite me?! I’ll make surr your DECIMATED!” The alien screamed, with his skinny arm pointing at the Dib.

Dib shushed it sharply. “Do you want to live or not?!” While he looked around, a short-lived panic.

“Look, I’ll open the containment, go in and talk. That’s all,” Dib held both of his hands as if to show he won’t do any tricks or bad stuff. The creature seemed skeptical about Dib’s offer, narrowing its strange eyes at his small frame. 

Then, the alien just leaned back down. It looked calm, but it was still glaring at him. “Is that a yes?” Dib asked sheepishly. He really should know body language and how communication works. Too bad that ain’t going swell, considering he’s the loneliest kid in school. 

The alien didn’t do anything to confirm or deny his question. 

Dib was frustrated. Instead of dawdling around for more, he put his bag down and picked up his drive.

“Wh-What’z that? Iz that yur tiny smeet knife?” The alien slurred again, both alarmed and evilly amused. Dib side-glared at the alien. He showed drive to the creature as he raised it up. “This will be able to distract the security footage for a while, and will be able to hack the containment’s lock,” Dib zipped the bag close. “Hopefully, no one would enter here anytime soon,” he said as he ran towards the controls. 

He inserted the drive at the slot and began decoding. 

It wasn’t that bad since he knows dad’s inventions and being taught how to decode from dad himself just a week ago. But he had to admit, gotta hand it to whoever made the effort of putting double strong crafted anti-viruses and firewalls that distracts Dib’s work to hack the footage and the lock. Though, that did not stop him from getting his plan to success. 

And the screen went a green glitch, with the text of “FOOTAGE TAKEN” and “CONTAINMENT 16 UNLOCKED”. Dib raised his fist up and smiled victoriously. He then went back to pick up his bag. And finally, he opened the containment. 

Dib slowly stepped inside the glass box, where the alien was laying down, turning its head to him. Dib gulped and just prepared his taser from his trench coat in case if the alien attacks first. After their long minutes of staring and wary gazes, Dib stepped closer but stopped to see its reaction. 

But it just stared at him cautiously. 

So Dib sat beside the alien, not fearing for the worst since he has weaponry. But it reacted differently. It immediately jumped away from him, hoarse voice coming out but was all panicked incoherent words. Dib also panicked, because it may attack from its own panicking. “Calm down! Calm down! I’m not gonna hurt you, okay?!” Dib tried to reassure, but it just collapsed on the ground when it tried to stand up. The boy winced at the painful whine came out from the creature. 

“Are you done?” The boy asked. 

“Hurgh- YOU won’t! Getaway! Punyy smeet!” 

Dib bit his lip, “Is the smeet word supposed to be offending or something?” 

“Shutup!” 

“Okay, I’ll shut.” The boy began rummaging through his bag and plucked out a bag of candies. He ripped the plastic open and handed out the candy to it. “Not until you eat this.” 

“Whuzut?” The alien raised its non-existent eyebrows, now sitting and leaning on the glass wall. Suddenly, it gasped sharply and glared at the candy he was holding. 

“ARE YOU TRYING TO POISON ME?!” The alien screeched. 

Dib rolled his eyes. “No, it’s food. Your body won’t function well if you don’t eat.” He knew nothing about alien ethics and anatomy. 

“YOU LIE!” It screamed with its high-pitched child voice that it almost made Dib’s ears bleed. “Geez, I’m not! I’m just trying to be nice!” 

“As if I’m going to believe- ” It hissed. 

“You know what?” Dib dropped the bag of candies near the alien and walked out of the containment. “I’ll just go bother the controls. You either eat or starve here because this is all I can give you,” The boy huffed, back to checking out the controls to find the security files. 

There wasn’t anything new or interesting for those past security tapes of the alien screaming its name and its stupidity. The scientists kept observing and writing the stuff they see from the alien’s antics. There was Mr. Winslow interrogating it, but all it got him was screaming and threats to kill him. Dib sighed, vexed because that would also be him if he tried observing or interrogating the creature. It would be exhausting. But the big part of him was excited, not bothering the disadvantages of having an alien subject. He would try dissecting it, exploring every bit of its anatomy. To the other children, one would call him a psychopath, a weirdo. But for Dib, it would be a miracle, for a kid to be able to experiment with newfound species. He would be famous, remembered, be known. And especially, make his dad proud. It was all ever he wanted to begin with. Dib faintly smiled, imagining the idea of his father patting his back to congratulate him. He would celebrate with alien-themed cake and give him medals. He would tell him he’s proud. He would be proud. 

But there was a small part of him that remembered what he had seen when the other scientists vivisected it. He felt almost sick. 

He did not notice he was daydreaming until someone grasped his shoulder and roughly turned him around. He flinched instantly, but then saw who held his shoulder. 

“Where did you get this small colored rock thingies?” the alien growled, gripping the emptied bag of candies. Dib stared at it and the empty plastic bag. How long had he’s been daydreaming? That was plentiful of candies. 

Then Dib furrowed his eyebrows, realizing the alien is out of the containment. Right, he forgot to lock the cell. 

The alien shook him rapidly, giving the boy a headache. “WHERE?!” 

The boy pushed it away. “From the candy store. Duh.” 

The alien scoffed, “Zim did not know of this “candy store” from ANYWHERE on your planet!” 

“Maybe you haven’t been exploring enough land to dominate, alien scum.” 

“I HAVE! YOU LIE!” 

That was when the two started bickering about candies. The alie- Zim kept complaining about the whereabouts of the candies while Dib got irritated by Zim, so he got salty chips for it. Zim tasted it, and it spilled it out in disgust. “This is disgusting! Zim hates it!” 

Dib deadpanned, “You’re a spoiled alien brat. You know that, right?” 

“No, you’re the brat!” Zim replied in a childish manner, pinning the blame on others. 

Their back and forth of arguing and complaining lasted longer than Dib expected it to be. Zim was resilient on being on the top of trash talking. While Dib has more of the reasonable replies to Zim’s backlash. All the while, Dib learned some of its behavior. He knew its gender was a 'he', apparently. The alien is too booming and cocky like some cartoon villain. He also concluded Zim liked more of sugary sweets than any food due to the missing chocolate bars and other candies in his bag. He did not know why, though. He’ll have to ask it someday when Zim would stop harassing him childishly.

There was a funny feeling while they were bickering, like long-time rivals. It felt almost… normal. 

But that stopped when it was time for Dib to leave. 

The boy readied his bag and opened the vent. He made sure the alien was inside and locked him in. Dib quickly got the tubes and inserted to where it was before. Unsurprisingly, the alien tried attacking him but just flailed his thin green arms to his face. He felt irritated, so he just pushed the alien hard to the ground and quickly got outside the cell to lock him up. He picked up the drive and the cameras got a one-minute countdown before activating. 

He took one last look at the alien, his suspicious and frustrated gaze turned into pity. He bit his lip, then saying, “I’m sorry about what happened at the lab earlier.” And he crawled off to the vents later on.

His day got interesting and wishes to do it again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for such a short chapter, but I'll try making more of them for the majority of chapters. After all, their dynamic is the star of the story.


	4. Chapter 4 - Zigzag Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dib's pondering about his actions. While Zim's having a little interrogation with a special guest.

Why. Didn’t. He. Do. It?! 

Dib paced around his room, gripping his hair as if he wanted to rip it out. His laptop laid on his bed, the screen showing the application for The Swollen Eyeball. His belongings were all scattered, the empty bags of chips and candies were all neatly placed at his desk. 

All the way home unscathed, Dib didn’t think about the stuff he was supposed to do. Instead, he just got excited about another meeting with him if possible. But when he entered his room and saw the laptop, he had the horrifying realization that he did not get to interrogate enough questions to the only proof he had to prove his worth to the group. He must’ve been carried away with all their little quarrel. Hence, all the pacing and his anger at himself. 

“You stupid- stupid brain!” Dib said to himself, knocking his skull as if to punish it. “Why didn’t you do it? You said this is going to be easy! That was your chance,” He groaned. He stared angrily at the camera he was supposed to take evidence of. He didn’t think about setting it and making sure he showed the proof he was interrogating an alien. While, yes, he did a record of what happened while he was inside the vents, that is in no proof yet to get to the group. Why? Because the group is fastidious about their applicant’s evidence for the supernatural. So, his mission didn’t work out. He thought about going back to it again tomorrow. 

But the one that bothered him the most – His sudden decision to help Zim. 

It was sudden indeed, at least for him. After what he had seen from the alien being vivisected, the horrible sounds of screaming in agony and dread echoed out loud from the vents, and Dib stared at him in his own suppressed horror. He never knew how vivisection would be scary, and… sad. Dib’s thoughts flurried through his eyes, the ideas of himself doing it to Zim. The ideas of himself enjoying the pained angry gazes from his subjects as they try squirming for an escape. He thought at first, it would be enlightening. It would be fascinating for him to discover its anatomy for new future studies. But now, when he saw that small frame of an alien had his own blood experimented, forced to see him being cut open, he couldn’t even imagine being done that to him. 

That was Dib’s morality pulling him away from pursuing his dream. 

He didn’t know where did this come from. He doesn’t have any teacher or guardian that teaches him morals. His father just barely gave any life-changing lessons, Ms. Bitters is the opposite on what you expect to be a good influential teacher, and his supposed therapist from the Crazy House for Boys did only to teach about the norm about being a simple boy. None of them had any impact on having his traits of being a good and nice pupil of humanity. So the fact he had doubts about his decisions about his only mission confuses him. And maybe even scares him. Because he felt remorse for an alien who wanted to exterminate his people in the first place. 

Dib stopped pacing. He gazed at his reflection at his camera lense. His glasses block his eyes’ reflection at it, making him gaze of a boy who looked like he had dark motives deep down. And the truth is, he had. 

Dib has a dream to pursue. Forget morals. Forget the pity. The alien is his chance and he isn’t going to waste with some humanity’s rarest trait. Zim doesn’t care about killing his people, well, Dib is ready to torture the life out of him to remind him who is the boss. 

The boy took off his glasses and placed it on his desk. He plopped down to his bed. Next time, he had to set things straight. His mission is at the utmost priority, and he’ll have to make sure nothing will distract him from anything. 

Forgetting the mess he had done, he fell asleep. 

* * *

Zim begrudgingly sat down the metal chair. The human cuffed him tightly behind, his neutral face mocking Zim’s power over what’s happening. The other human put the tubes back again to his body, which slightly relieved Zim. After the human smeet left, it was just in time that the two humans entered the room. Zim grunted in disdain that humans won’t give him a break from their idiotic presence. He was reminded of the interrogation earlier, so the Irken was prepared for another set of backlashes. 

Just as they had him locked down on the chair, another human calls himself “Winslow” casually made his entrance. Zim knew him from the start of his day in this facility. He was calm and collected, but sometimes malevolently enjoying the alien’s hatred towards him. Zim did not cower from his smirk, his disgusting smile as he tauntingly clasped his chin to make him look at him intently. His face is still disgusting and filthy just as ever. 

“So how was the test sessions going out for you, Subject Z?” Human-Winslow asked. Zim growled, his sharp teeth showing menacingly. Zim _really_ wanted to bite this human’s face off. It’ll be a pleasure if he gets the chance. 

Human-Winslow hummed, still smirking. He removed his nasty hand away from his cheeks, walking up to his “human caretakers”. 

As if they read each other’s minds, the three left the room, with only Zim’s antennae hearing the faint voices outside the walls. And then there were a pair of black-suited humans that stopped Zim from making a move for an escape. So, he just sat and waited for the Winslow to do his talk. 

The wait was, unfortunately, not too long. It meant the Irken had nothing to plan on without the sets of eyes tracking his every movement. 

Winslow entered first with the two following behind. 

“So, Subject Z. You haven’t been progressing well. Your behavior is still at work. You lack the mental capacity to understand why you are here. So, let me make it clear for you,” He cleared his throat. Leaning closer to the alien, Zim was ready to bite the hell out of it. 

Instead, he felt his body shock from electricity. And he felt himself _burning._ The shock was too unbearable, even for Irken standards. He felt himself passing out, but only fueled his anger from doing so. 

The human chuckled darkly, slowly making his hand an appearance. A hand holding a little remote. Zim tried to restrain his whimper from coming out, to prevent gaining the satisfaction on their faces. 

“So, are you ready to talk properly this time?” 

Still in electric shock, Zim glared and growled again. The human-Winslow frowned, making Zim smile in his own satisfaction. His captor suddenly stopped the shock. Zim lowered his head, antennae bent, panting heavily. He heard the screech of the chair in front of him, which meant Winslow is ready for the interrogation. 

And so, Zim-with the utmost determination- managed to look up and scowled, “You humans will not be able to break Zim. Your technology is stoopid and so is your operation. You will not get anything from me. _Never_.” 

The human raised his eyebrow, twitching his lip upwards as if his statement was amusing. “Oh? Really? Well, we’ll get into that,” He said. Human-Winslow intertwined his hands, resting them on the table between them and leaned forward. “Do you know what is an Irken’s weakness?” He paused, giving Zim a moment to process. Until he widened his eyes in realization. “Water,” Zim instantly felt the immense burn and pain from his skin when something _liquid_ had thrown at him. He was slowly and intolerably in agony like his skin was genuinely disintegrating. He gritted his teeth, desperately wanting to release a loud pained cry. But he refused to give them pleasure. All he came out of were pained grunts and impulsive writhing. 

“Though, there are some weaknesses that I may have just hypothesized. Overconfidence, arrogance, and defectiveness.” 

“I’m not defective,” Zim breathed. 

“Your _Pak_ says otherwise. You see, Subject Z, I’ve collected plentiful of information about you.” He strode around the room, eyes locked to Zim’s. He looked intimidating from his (helplessly admitting) height like the Tallest to Zim’s height of an average human smeet. “I’ve been able to decrypt your language, and look what I have found.” His hand made a snap, opening it to be given by some folder with a bunch of papers from his assistants. The human opened it, reading through some of the papers. “A banished Irken in a place called Foodcourtia, encoded as a Fast Food Drone. Killed your Tallest or what you call leaders. Almost destroyed Irk during the Operation Impending Doom I. And more atrocities you’ve committed from your home planet and to others. Then a recent banishment to Urth . You call yourself an elite soldier, _Zim_ _.”_ Winslow slammed the open folder to the table near the alien.

“But the truth is? It’s that you’ve accomplished nothing.” He left the folder for Zim to see. He saw some sentences about Zim’s doings from the past years, but the one highlighted was the text “ **DEFECTIVE** ”. 

“You are a failure, Subject Z,” He simply said. Zim lowered his head, his fists tightening and teeth grinding. He couldn’t say anything, because he half-heartedly agrees with it. With all of it. Without his PAK, his personality degraded, to which his ability to not see his mistakes is one of them. He may have some sense of himself, probably due to the tubes giving him to live in the long run, but it wasn’t usually himself. Zim would berate and boast about his “greatest achievements” non-stop. Zim wouldn’t be always so serious and tend to take things on ease. And Zim wouldn’t be easily silenced by the species he was about to exterminate. But it did, right now, with Winslow electrocuting him, torturing him, and exposing him. 

Zim began to have second thoughts about what he was doing on this planet. Was it for a mission? Or a fraud? Just to banish him from Irk? 

“That’s right, think about it while you can. It won’t last.” Zim must’ve been contemplating it for a long time if he noticed him thinking. Human-Winslow sat down again. “I’m curious as to why you think you would win against us. We have all the aces; you will lose if you step in the wrong direction.” 

However, with a little bit of his confidence, he answered, “The Irken will not bow to any kind of weakling of a species, even if you have me caught with your filthy technology. Even if I step in the “wrong direction”, I’ll find a way to take you all down. I'll make sure of that.” Zim glared at him with a sparkle of determination. He’ll make sure he promises to himself that. 

Winslow snickered, “We’ll see about that. Now about our tests-” He was cut off by a loud knocking on the door. All glanced at the door, with Winslow ordering the black-suited men to open it. 

They were greeted by another human. This one didn't familiarize Zim. He never even talked or met him back at day one. But the only one that bothered him is that the human has the zigzag wig as the human smeet had. 

“Professor Membrane!” Winslow hastily greeted the zigzag wig human. The human’s outfit looked like the same from every other human he encountered, with their thick-rimmed eye wideners, black gloves, and always their tall stature. It did not make any resemblance for the smeet he had seen, but only their wig. 

The Professor Membrane gazed his eye wideners on Zim and only Zim. He did not acknowledge the human-Winslow for a greeting, which cleared his throat and stood back at the discomfort. 

“Any progress on him?” Membrane asked. 

“Except on the behavioral status, sir. We’ve found some information on his PAK. Apparently, He’s defective.” 

Zim twitched his eyes, irritated. “I’m not defective!” 

“May I do the talking, Mr. Winslow?” Membrane politely asked. 

“O-Of course, sir.” 

Human-Winslow gestured all the other humans to go out. It was just Zim and the Membrane human. “You have been extremely difficult with the recent tests this week. If not, worse. And the scientists have grown tired of your incessant babbling,” He put down a written paper to the table and slid it to Zim. Zim read some it that he can understand, and those were the- 

“More tests?!” 

“Not quite. This only lengthens your hours of vivisection and behavior corrections. Other tests involved are only minimal, so you’re lucky. I’m only doing this because you’re defective. If you don’t have use, they might as well lessen our purpose of taking care of you. Isn’t that wonderful, Subject?” Professor Membrane stated, seemingly trying to cheer Zim up.

It is wonderful though. Fewer tests, fewer humans hanging out on his days. But what Zim didn’t like is that they always deteriorate his standards at best.

He didn’t call him out, only knowing that won’t change a thing. 

Neither did he reply in agreement.

However, Membrane didn’t seem to mind as he gleefully clapped his hands in satisfaction. “Wonderful! Any questions you would like to ask me? Except for escape plans. There is no escaping this facility on this one.” 

This was when Human-Winslow entered. “Sorry, but I would like to-” 

But Zim got to think the question first. “Uh yes, human. Why are you disguising yourself as a tall human, you smeet?” 

Confusion etched on the human’s face, but Winslow froze. “I’m sorry, what?” 

“Yes, don’t you think for a second I don’t recognize you! You’re the human smeet who just barged into my cell!” 

Winslow tried to interfere, “Sir, if I may-” 

“No,” With Membrane’s firm and stern voice, the other human was silenced. Human-Winslow seemed nervous. Why though? Was this disguised human smeet really that scary? 

“Not now, Mr. Winslow. I want to hear what he has to say,” Membrane’s stern voice cut him off clean, only nervously gulping along the way. “May you rephrase that statement again, alien?” 

Zim scoffed, “I said, you’re the smeet that has the same zigzag wig and eye wideners. Though, not that thick. You were very, very tiny. Tinier than Zim!” 

It was then Membrane’s furrowed eyebrows turned to shock and disbelief. 

He swiftly whirled his head to Winslow, who was shrinking on the corner already. His own glare, even though it cannot be seen clearly, was terrifying. Zim subconsciously shifted backward, not wanting to join the sense of dark aura. “Mr. Winslow?” Membrane’s voice was cold, unfeeling. “Was my son in this facility?” 

Mr. Winslow stuttered, not able to make a coherent word. And that got Membrane’s answer. 

“How?” 

“Yo-Your son tried to crawl into the vents! I don’t know how he got down here! I swear, sir.” 

The human sighs, disappointed. His hand held his forehead. “Of course, he would,” He muttered that Zim’s hearing can only hear. “I’ll give you off a warning, Mr. Winslow.”

A sound of a relieved huff came from non-zigzag human. “I promise, sir. I’ll inform you if in any case your son intrudes again.” 

The zigzag human gave him an uninterested glance. “Yes, sure. And make sure double the security on the vents, the entrance, and the locks.” 

Winslow nodded frantically. 

His face changed when it turned to the alien. He quickly stomped to him, steadily removed his black gloves, where robotic hands were to be hidden. Zim didn’t react fast enough, and suddenly his chair and feet weren’t touching the ground anymore. Zim struggled to breathe when Membrane gripped his tiny neck. It was an uncomfortable position for a threatening stand-off, due to him being tied up to a chair. Nonetheless, the robotic hand still held some of the affliction. His magenta-colored eyes began to see blue blinding light glowering in front. It was Membrane’s other hand, that had its hand blaster (literally) aiming directly at Zim’s face. Zim tried to wriggle to escape from the robotic hand lifting him up to the air, but as always found futile to do anything his way. 

“Now listen here, alien,” The human hissed, with all kinds of negativity spilled onto it. Zim sensed the dark aura surrounding him, suffocating him. He doesn’t know where it is, or why is it here. But it seemed like it came from this human holding his neck. “If you ever, ever try to hurt my boy. I’ll make sure your death will not be painless.” The alien stopped breathing as if he was forced to do so. The room went warm to freezing cold. Zim shivered from it. 

The Membrane shook him, sharp but only a little, to get his attention to him. Zim nodded once, and he was dropped hard on the ground, along with the chair.

Zim coughed, Winslow moved away to make space for Membrane to walk out without any disturbances. He treaded to the exit, leaving Winslow and the other humans to help Zim out. 


	5. Chapter 5 - Let's Talk, Shall We?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dib questions between his morality or his ambition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... anybody noticed the last chapter Winslow didn't say Dib visited our little alien twice? Did Winslow even know their second encounter anyways...?

A week passed by, it was time for him to go. 

His plan to question the alien was easy. He laid it all out in his pocket notebook, all the stuff that are correlated to the alien’s history and biology. The camera was set to record, so he’ll have to remember to use it when the opportunity comes. His handy taser is still in his trench coat pocket. He prepared all the snacks that Zim had wanted to try, just for the incentive. He traced out the floor plan on how to get to Zim’s containment room. He’s ready for almost everything. Almost. 

The bad part was that the door for the elevator is fully locked, with lasers and passcodes. To his luck (surprisingly), the drive he inserted last time at the controls had the same usage to the door. Then there was another one, the vents. It was packed with movement sensors and sound detections. He knew that when he was just about to go in. Then the alarms blared right atop of him. His drive didn’t work out, and there was nothing to make of. He was out of ideas. Out of panic, he ran for the elevator and went up before any guards could try getting in. He knew he was in trouble, so he retreated. 

Dib sat on his chair, turning on his laptop. He inserted the drive and he worked on for a better overriding system. He was glad that his father taught him more of his tech. That way, Dib had to learn its strength and weakness. Mostly, it was just overriding the mainframes but some involved physical interaction. Dib learned to apply his smarts into making technologies, not history or some subjects from Skool. 

“Finally,” the boy pressed the enter button as the final procedure and took out the new improved drive. He picked up the other drive he could use for the controls like last time. So one will be left for the vents and one would be overriding the systems in the containment room. 

He will have to wait for tomorrow night. If he could. If dad doesn’t go back home early from his meeting with the Russian government. 

He stepped down to the kitchen, thinking of a glass of milk and the leftover pizza. His day just backtracked and he was tired after the hours of modifying his drive. Food would do him some well-deserved break. 

The boy opened up the fridge and saw three slices of pepperoni pizza on a plate. He was grateful that Gaz hadn’t picked cheese pizza last time at Bloaty’s. He picked it up and delivered it to the microwave. But to do that, he’ll have to get a stool for him to reach the counter. His dad prepared him just that when Dib tried to wash his hands on the sink but was too short to reach it. He dragged the stool to the other side to grab a cup and fill it with water. Putting it beside the pizza, he closed off and set it on half a minute. He waited as he climbed up the chair. 

Midnight was quiet. No cricketing crickets, no loud neighbors watching sports, and no dad working in the basement. Gaz must’ve been in her room since he hasn’t been hearing the living room of gaming noises. She was either still playing, or went to sleep. That leaves Dib, still awake for a little meal. 

When the pizza was done, he prepared onto the table. Getting the carton of milk and a glass, he poured onto it. With three pizza slices and milk, his day may be cured. 

“What’re you doing up?” 

Dib yelped, startled by the voice just behind him. He turned to see Gaz standing on the doorway, arms crossed, and no gaming console on her hands. 

“Gaz! Uh, I-I could ask you the same thing.” 

“Lost the game. I want the two slices, now.” 

“Oh-oh okay,” Dib waited for Gaz to get up her chair and held up a slice. Dib took the other and started to eat it. They were both quiet, not wanting to say anything to each other. It was peaceful but quite uncomfortable. There was something lingering around the room, eager to be visible and known. 

And that was Dib’s thoughts. 

“Alright, spill it out,” Gaz sighed, eating up the pizza whole and taking the last one. 

“What?” 

“I’m only doing this once, Dib. Spill,” Gaz glared. 

Then Dib was quiet himself. He tried to avert his eyes from his sister, embarrassed that he was easily caught in the act. Well, it was to be expected anyways. Gaz is somewhat more mature and observant than any kid her age. As someone who knows more about her than anyone shouldn’t surprise him in the slightest. 

Biting the littlest bit of the pizza, he spoke quietly, “Gaz, what if you suddenly have the feeling to... quit your dream?” 

Gaz looked very uninterested but he knows she’s listening. 

“Like what if... you’re scared of wanting this job in the first place. Like if you wanna be a surgeon and you’re scared of blood.” 

Gaz played with her pizza for a moment, probably contemplating, “So you’re saying you’re scared of something that relates to your paranormal stuff, and you want me to help you deal with it?” 

“I-” Now that Dib realized, he was asking this to someone younger than him. He was supposed to know this rather than someone who was, well, technically younger and inexperienced. But... Gaz wasn’t inexperienced. She has the guts of a man and the look of a little child. Although, Gaz isn’t one of the listener types. Nor giving of advice. She’s just... Gaz. 

“N-Not really. I just want you to know,” He said as he put down the pizza and drank the milk. Gaz continued eating her pizza, while Dib just sipped the contents of the glass slowly for something to distract from the awkwardness. 

“You know I don’t want to know.” Dib flinched at the statement. 

“But I’ll give you this.” He perked up at Gaz. “If I can beat the hardest level on a video game, then maybe you can. It’s all about beating the scaredy-cat inside you. You beat it, you can continue,” Gaz shrugged after she ate the pizza whole. Dib thought about it. “So, what you’re saying is that if I can beat that fear, I can pursue my dream?” 

“Figure it out, idiot.” She jumped off the chair, grumpily marching onto the stairs. Dib stared at the stairs where Gaz was, contemplating.

“Thanks, Gaz.” 

* * *

It's tonight. Exactly eleven at night. Dib has everything prepared. Again, but better this time. 

Dib sneaked past his house and ran to the Membrane Labs. 

There were few people left in the lobby, so the stealth is going to be easy for him. 

Dib immediately opened the front door and hid under the decoration plants. He peaked out to see the receptionist was just sitting, minding her phone. The others were busy reading their clipboards and few were leaving the building. 

Dib went to the nearest vent beside the staff area. And this vent doesn’t have exaggerating lasers and sensors! The boy whooped silently and opened the vent to crawl in. He made sure the vent is securely closed in case if anyone gets suspicious. The good thing about this is that he knows the layout of the building. So, vents here will not be a problem since he used to crawl inside these when he wanted to see some stuff inside the laboratories. He crawled to the vent of his destination, just atop the double door. How convenient. 

He checked the hallway with his small handheld mirror, spying on the scientists who were just exiting the area. Dib smiled even more. He was getting luckier in every minute. Let’s just hope this will last until the interrogation is done. 

After a few minutes, he finally dropped down. He checked again for any scientists behind him but found no one. 

Dib opened the double door and inserted the drive to the secret elevator. The elevator processed the contents of the hard drive. Automatically, the doors slid open and Dib cheerfully entered. He took the drive just for elevator security had a cooldown of a couple of minutes. Hastily, Dib pressed the “IGE” button. 

Arriving at the floor, he hid on the side of the elevator since he cannot be seen in front. Turns out, there were no scientists or guards coming to it. Distressed and relieved, he continued to the vents. There were no controls on this one since it’s from the security room somewhere. But Dib didn’t need to do that, because he can have his drive attracted to any metal, so in this case, he stuck the drive inside the vent. It did not take minutes when the lasers were turned off. 

And alas, he tracked down to the room he specifically wanted to go. 

Dib easily opened the vent out to Zim’s room, where supposedly Zim would be. 

But he wasn’t at his cell. 

Confused and panicked, Dib started peaking around. The security cameras were on, surrounding the room. The controls were still up and running. And the cell only contained a big machine that connects the tubes. 

There were no signs of the alien or scienti- 

A loud whir of the sliding door opened. Dib quickly closed the vent and crawled back a few feet away. He tried to eavesdrop but all he could hear were distant mumbling and angry grunting. Dib wouldn’t want to risk being seen, so he stayed at the vents for a little while. 

When he heard the doors whirring to a close, he crawled near the vent lid again. 

Zim was inside the cell again, splayed on the ground. He looked dead and unmoving. Well, maybe he is dead. 

However, he proved himself wrong after Zim grumbled nonsense. Involuntarily, Dib sighed in relief. At least he wasn’t dead. Or else, this whole plan would’ve been nothing but a waste of time. 

Or was there another reason why he was relieved? 

Shaking his head at the thought, he quietly opened the lid. 

It was then Zim caught notice of him plugging the drive onto the computer. 

“You!? Again!” Zim shouted. 

Dib shushed him out, busy typing the codes needed to override the mainframe. 

“I’m going to question you. Duh.” 

“What for? I’ve already done that to your tall friends, impudent smeet!” 

Dib left the drive running, enabling him to lock and unlock the cell whenever he wants to. He walked to the cell, meeting Zim’s ruby-colored eyes to his chocolate-colored ones. He is still in the same position earlier, as if his body had been paralyzed. His injuries were still the same, except there were some burns. Dib secretly quivered at the sight. 

“What happened to you?” 

Zim snarled, “Your parental unit just tried to threaten Zim. That’s what happened.” 

He snorted back, “Oh so you do have sass. Good to know.” 

“What? Did Zim struck a nerve?” the alien smugly smiled. Dib just deadpanned. His father just talked to this monster. It was either Zim spilled something about him going into this facility or he just shut his mouth. 

“Did you say anything to my dad about me?” His brows furrowed, scared that he might’ve told it. 

Zim was quiet for a while. Was he thinking? 

“Obviously… yes.” 

Dib frustratingly facepalms. Of course. No wonder the security was upped. He’ll have to deal with that later. Right now, this is the moment he had been waiting for. And he’s not gonna waste it. 

“Okay. Let’s talk, shall we?” Dib put down the bag and held up the snacks he brought. He looked to Zim, who had his eyes widen at the food. Now it was Dib’s turn to smirk. “Talk or you won’t eat all of these,” Dib teased, elegantly gesturing the plethora of chocolate, sweets, and snacks on the ground. Zim looked like he’s resisting the urge to do so but the boy carried on the conversation. 

“First off, why do you want to dominate our planet?” 

“Pfft, what do you think, smeet? Your planet stinks! But useful! The Tallest would be please for this to be used for something.” 

“Tallest? Is that supposed to be your leaders?” 

“Zim will not answer that question!” 

Dib groaned, taking the pocket notebook for any more questions. “Okay, what about your species?” 

“I won’t answer more questions. You can’t force me with your sweet sugary foods!” 

The boy got annoyed a little, “Why? You don’t want them?” 

“No, I cannot move to get it at all.” 

“What?” Now that the boy just dawned on him. Zim didn’t move an inch to get into a comfortable position to face him. He’s just lying there, eyes just sideways to Dib. The scientists must have paralyzed his body, but still can speak or see his surroundings. 

“Oh...” 

Zim cackled, “Admit your defeat. You can’t interrogate me.” 

Dib scowled, almost setting his plan for a defeat. 

Almost. 

“Hey, wait... What do those tubes do exactly?” Dib asked. 

“Oh, this is just my substitute for my life- wait...” 

“Gotcha,” he boy evilly smiled, while Zim looked very unnerved. “Don’t you dare, human. Don’t you take one more step here, or you’ll die,” the alien attempted to threaten the child but it did no good when Dib unlocked the cell door. 

“Oh really? You’re paralyzed. I know how this injection lasts. Most likely for half an hour. And just got my time set for it too,” He showed his watch ticking in 28 minutes. With no more remarks or callbacks, Dib pulled out the tubes harshly, earning a low guttural but pained sound from Zim. That caused Dib’s smirk to fade, and sympathetically but warily pushed the alien to a more comfortable position. This meant Zim won’t be able to see Dib clearly at the other side of the glass wall. Dib didn’t mind. 

Dib sat down back at the outside. The cell door is now locked, making sure if the interrogation exceeded the paralyzed time. He set up the camera on his side, angling it perfectly to capture Zim and Dib. “So, about your leaders. Tell me.” 

“No,” Zim angrily pouted. 

“Or else you will die without those tubes... slowly. So, you better talk,” Dib got his arms crossed as if he was showing dominance. But all that he mustered in front was a little child pretending to be a man. 

Zim, though, seemed convinced. Maybe because Dib just took out the only life support he has. And also he can't move, so that’s terrifying to be in that situation. 

“Fine! You win this once, stink beast. But never will I-” 

“Just answer the question.” 

“... The Almighty Tallest are our leaders of the Irken Empire. They’re the ones that b- commanded Zim to go this planet.” 

“Leaders? So there’s more than one?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why did they send you here? Don’t give me the ‘plotting domination on Earth’ spiel. Say it specifically.” 

“Urgh! It was to destroy your planet. Our purpose was to rule and destroy other planets.” 

“So you can be on the number one on the best race ever lived?” 

“Yes.” 

“So, you guys invade planets for a living? That’s sick.” Dib made a look of disdain and disgust. An alien from a race of evil species. A species meant to kill innocents for a living. He thought, at first, aliens would be a little understanding. A little emotion just as much as humans. But with what Zim just said, thought of something the other people would be scared of. These alien movies showed gore and horrific things they do to his people. Maybe, just maybe. Zim may have done that now if he wasn’t being a test subject at his father’s labs. 

“Oh please. There are other races that do the same. It’s just we’re better, stronger, and more powerful than these weaklings.” Zim waved it off. Dib sneered, “Why do you do this? Don’t you guys have some sense of understanding? You’re killing innocents!” 

“We were created to do this, human,” Zim growled. “You think we have a choice in this? We’re controlled by our other leader. Which is the Control Brains.” 

“Control Brains?” 

“They make us a true Irken. Giving judicial matters of our decisions. Giving us our preliminary purpose. Then letting the Almighty Tallest decide for the changeable ones.” 

Dib lowered his head, staring at the floor. Their system is messed up. Someone giving their own life of something because their leaders dictate their own existence. It’s sick. But then that was just their species. Who knows other aliens have that same system. 

“So, _human_. Any more questions you would _like_ to ask?” Zim furiously asked. 

“Right, sorry. Uhm- your tubes. You say it was your lifeline. Why is that?” 

Zim paused for a moment. “When we’re created, we were given a device on our backs. It’s called a PAK. It contains our memories and personalities. If our body dies, the PAK will be either reserved or transport to another body.” 

“If that’s so, then why do you still-“ Dib went confuzzled to horrified. “How is your body still alive?” 

“Do your auditory sensors malfunction? Zim said it already this machine that you humans made are my only PAK for now.” 

“You said that the pak holds your personality. That means your own existence came from a device. You're just a shell to keep it moving?” 

“Do not baffle me with these. Look, I don’t know how your race managed to replicate something complicated for all of you do not understand. The Irk haven’t seen other planets invent the same thing as our PAKs. So if you ask me, ask de Control Brains.” The alien’s words became wobbly but Dib disregarded that. 

He thought about it. The PAK is basically their own life. Their selves. The fact that Zim’s body still lives off a human's machine bewildered him. 

But, if it is like this. Maybe the Control Brains were wrong. Their leaders were wrong. Their species don’t live off something they just constructed. Maybe, they have their own lives. There must be more it. There _must_ be. 

“Human, err u don? Imma bout to die!” Dib shot up. “What?! H-How would you know?” Dib doubtfully asked. 

The alien groaned in aggravation and desperation. “I hav lyfeclock! Zz tickin by ten seconds!” 

Dib scrambled to open the lock instantly. He forgot his camera fell after his clumsy move to stand. He forgot his safety from the alien’s paralyzed body. All he instinctively thought of was that someone’s dying. And he was not going to be the fault of that. 

The boy began to grasp the tubes and stick them to the marks where the tubes were into his head and back. It takes him longer than expected. Zim starts to countdown his timer. It didn’t help, it only pressured him into putting the tubes onto his body. 

“for left!” 

“thuree!” 

“Human-!” 

“On it!” 

Then, he finally got to shove the last tube back to Zim. 

“Zim?” he looked at Zim’s face. 

The alien looked very pale, Dib might’ve thought he was dead. But when the alien deeply inhaled, Dib heavily sighed from shock, fear, and relief. Zim was still alive. He didn’t kill him. He saved his life. Well, technically he stole it but he could count it as one for not any more negativity comes into mind. 

Dib fell flat down to the ground, not minding the pain on his butt when it landed. The pressure of saving his life was too much. 

He looked at Zim. He was fuming. 

Dib felt his façade of being a man disappear, his own regret coming in. “Zim, I’m-“ 

It was when he spotted Zim’s hand curling to a fist, shaking. 

His reaction was way too late. 

Zim shouted a cry, charging to Dib. 

The boy got clawed at the chest. 

His heart stopped, breathing got more audible. 

Zim was about to strike again. Dib quickly pulled out his taser. 

He shot Zim with it. He fell into an electric shock. 

He dashed away from the alien, going to the door. He didn’t know if the alien was chasing him. He cared about getting away from him. Gripping the ripped shirt at his chest, he felt the burning tears from the stinging pain. He felt something wet from the injury. 

_Oh god, no_

He got through the door. He pressed the button to close and lock. Dib backed away, suddenly tripping down. He crawled back, his eyes glued to the alien laid down inside, again. Zim scornfully glared at the boy, panting from either exhaustion from the panic or the flaming anger burst from his clawed hands to his chest. 

Dib gripped his chest harder, making it sting and hurt more. Dib whimpered pathetically. He never felt something as painful as this. He may have been electrocuted, pushed hard to the ground, and scrapes from accidents. But never, ever felt it _bleed_ this much. So much _pain._ Dib choked, feeling his burning tears swelling up from the enormous pain. He wanted it to stop! There was no medkit or any healing stuff from his bag. Nothing could help him out. Except just cover the bleeding from his trench coat. 

He felt his whole sensory system shut except himself. He couldn’t hear anything but his breathing. He couldn’t feel anything but the chest in pain. He couldn’t see because of his glasses- 

Dib widened his eyes, trying to find his glasses. He must’ve lost it while his dash happened. The good thing is that his peripheral isn’t that so dull, so he could identify what object he sees near to him. In front of the door were his glasses. It was outside. He was glad. He caught his glasses and wore it again. He saw his environment clearly but the crack created from the lens. 

Dib didn’t want to see the alien, wanting to claw his guts out. He shuddered from thinking about it. He immediately snatched the fallen camera and its stand. He got his snacks packed up immediately. He plucked the drive out, knowing it would have to count it down the minutes before the security in this room starts functioning. All the while he tries to repress the sting growing more and more painful every time he moves. 

He lifted his bag and the bleeding came worst, almost dropping the bag from it. He hobbled to the vents and crouched to fit in. Then barging a load of inescapable pain rush through his body and head, giving him a massive headache. He almost passed out as his eyes began to blacken. But he resisted. His goal here to get away as fast as possible without any traces of him being here at all. 

He doesn’t want to encounter an angry father. A disappointed one. A crowd of scientists emanating shame and dismay around Dib. 

He felt something heavy from his bag. Dib didn’t try checking it because he needs to get out of the vents to his home for his wound to be mended ASAP. That was all he could think about. 

He got out of the vents and just in time to take out the other drive. 

The building was empty now. 

Dib rushed to the back door where the staff exits. 

He got to his house without anyone noticing. 

It would take him a long night to patch up his injury. 

He’ll have to tell dad to skip Skool in the morning. He has a lot of things to unpack of. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh. And you think Dib's in big trouble cuz of the last chapter. Smart Dib for the win.
> 
> Anyhow, I want to thank you for the comments and kudos! Really appreciate it!


	6. Chapter 6 - Waffles With Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dib medicates his gash and Zim contemplates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's gonna be medical inaccuracies. Dearly sorry for the readers who know about this stuff.

Dib shut the door close, heaving. He stumbled onto his drawer, roughly pulling each one open. He dug through the contents of it. Some dejected objects falling to the floor and some had been thrown hard to the walls. Dib finally retrieved what he was looking for: a piece of gauze and Hydrogen Peroxide. He may be smart at certain things but medical emergencies aren’t. Sure, he constantly has scrapes and bruises from time to time and he uses bandages if there was minor bleeding. This time, though, it was bleeding profusely and possibly may have affected his ribs. The best solution was taking care of it from the professionals. 

But it would report it to his father in no time. 

The boy shook his head, focusing on the injury at hand. 

He opened up the bottle of peroxide and tried to pour it a little. Apparently, he didn’t know how much it burns when he has an open wound. So, he shrieked in pain, accidentally dropping the bottle and spilled the liquid. The burn from his wound felt like he put his whole body into a furnace with the fire poking him from the gash. Dib fell down, making the pain burn tenfold. He wanted to cry. He wanted to shout for help. Because he can’t do it. He was tired. So tired from running back to his room while pressuring the running liquid spilling out of his body. 

He endured the burn and only gave out tearful whimpers and heavy breaths. 

“Keep it together, Dib,” Dib said to himself, attempting to stand. 

“Keep together wut?” 

The boy gasped, falling down again to his butt. He twisted his head to locate the voice. 

Beside his backpack and eating the snacks he had, was a small robot. Although his glasses were cracked, he can clearly see the surroundings well enough. It has a large semi-circle head, with an antenna on the top. It had telescopic blue eyes lighting its area. The body has a simple design of a blue square that was... taped? The arms were slender and jointed with blue round shoulder and wrist, along with its claw-like hands. And its legs seemed to be... apart from the whole body. 

It looked like a normal robot, basically. 

Dib stared wide-eyed at it, confusion and horror displayed on his face. Someone- well something- _saw_ him. Was it from his father? Was he spying the whole time? 

“Where did you come from?” Dib questioned, scurrying away from the robot. 

The robot innocently tilted its head sideward, while munching the bag of chips. “Where did YOU come from?” The robot asked back, grinning like a child. Its voice sounded like a child, yet it had a layered robotic one. Dib, forgetting the gash for a second, raised an eyebrow. “What?” 

“What?” The robot repeated. 

“Are you some kind of dad’s invention?” 

“Wuz a ‘dads dimension?’,” the robot stupidly asked, wholly ate the bag of chips. Dib cringed at the sound he heard of the plastic being munched. But then he also registered the fact he was still on the ground, the peroxide messily spilled on the ground with him, and his bleeding chest still burning. 

“Y’know, your creator-“ 

“Ohh! You meaan mah mastah!” It exclaimed happily as if it figured it out a hard puzzle. While Dib gaped at it. So it was dad’s inventions. How did it get here? Were his questions earlier true? Is dad really spying him right now? 

“What does _he_ want from me?” Dib fearfully hissed. He didn’t want dad pushing him away from his dreams. If he found out that he was injured from the alien he met, in which he knew he met him because Zim told him so, he would be livid. He wouldn’t let him go out for a month, staying inside with an angry Gaz, watch Mysterious Mysteries, and a blank application for the Swollen Eyeball. He would scold him everyday from going out and do his ‘ghost fantasies’, saying it was too dangerous. Maybe… he would ground him from being a paranormal investigator. For a year. Or maybe forever. 

He looked back at the robot. It seemed like he was thinking – processing? – what he just said. But he didn’t know that robots could eat while processing the information. 

“Hmmm…! Huu I dunno,” the robot childishly said. 

“Ok then,” Dib had enough of the nonsense chat he had with it. It must be a failed experiment. Dad would never create something as childish and slow-witted as this. Maybe it was just active in the basement and wandered around the house. 

Besides, he has an injury to take care of and he doesn’t know how to cure it. 

The boy held the nearest object to latch on, which was the desk. He gripped the top of it and got back on his feet. He sat down the chair, exhausted. He needs the bandage to keep his bleeding cut short. It was all he can do for now. 

He grabbed the roll of gauze and strapped it around his upper body. He abruptly stopped when he saw the robot just standing beside him, faced with a look of confusion and curiosity. But it still holds a stupid smile. 

“Wut are you doin?” 

Dib’s brows wrinkled with cautiousness. 

“I’m patching myself up.” 

“Ohh… you still doin da wrong way tho,” it smiled that had a tinge of naivety. Dib scrunched up. “What do you mean?” 

“Oooo! I can help!,” It happily said, raising both of its noodle arms up. 

Dib glanced back at his wound, then back to the robot. It would do some good if he has someone to help him with this. After all, most of his dad’s inventions are made for helping people. 

He sighed in defeat, “Okay. Just make sure it stops the bleeding.” 

The bot nodded and gave somewhat a thumbs up. It climbed to the desk while Dib easily removed the stained gauze out of the way. He needs a professional and this bot might help out. It observed the gash, making a questioning humming sound along. That also questioned the robot’s ability to be medical help. 

“You need dis!” the robot began to literally open its head and its hand scrambling inside of it. Dib was stuck there, just horrified. 

After a couple of seconds, the robot finally pulled out… 

“A rubber chicken?” Dib asked incredulously. How was that going to help? 

It giggled, “Nope!” Then went back to searching inside its head. 

This went on for a minute until it revealed out it was looking for. A syringe and a vial of some sort of green liquid. “Found it!” It declared, putting it down on the desk. Dib leaned forward to examine the vial. “What is this?” 

“A q-oor! It says it helps close the cut open skin.” 

He stared at the vial. It seemed… unknown to him. And if it’s unknown to him, it’s a danger sign right there. But what the robot said, it doesn’t hold any malicious intent either. 

So he just shrugged it off. If this is really dad’s invention, there are crazy and bizarre ways he cures people. 

He picked up the syringe and pushed it inside the vial. He pulled the handle to suck up the liquid inside then took it off afterward. He held out the syringe, gazing at it with curiosity himself. It was glowing, with the remaining bubbles moving slowly. 

“Where do I inject it?” 

“Hmmmm… the arm!” 

Dib carefully injected it at his left arm, despite the quick sting after the needle went inside. He pushed the handle down to spread the liquid down inside his bloodstream. 

After the excruciating injection inside his arm, while resisting the urge to cry at burning pain on his chest, he pulled out the syringe. 

“Gud job!” it clapped joyfully. That somehow gave Dib a sense of relief and reassurance. 

“All I need is to roll up with gauze, right?” 

“Yas!” it chirped. But it didn’t seem like it knew what he just asked. 

Dib rolled out another gauze and wrapped it around. It was also a good little help from the robot when it assisted with wrapping the gauze to his arm while he takes care of his chest. 

With an excessive amount of cloth done, he smiled in success. It looked messy but it’s still secured of anymore bleeding. He feels the pain lessening, which told that the robot was telling the truth about the vial. 

He looked around to find it eating his snacks again, not minding his stare directly at it. It just... laughed hysterically for no reason. 

He shook his head. He let it continue eating while he sits at his chair, thinking back at the event again. 

He was a fool, to begin with. The beginning when everything goes smoothly as he planned. Ending with a disaster and an accident on his part. He didn’t mean for himself to panic. To forget everything he was supposed to do in the situation. And to be honest, it was all improvised. The incentive of food wasn’t enough, so he risked the alien’s life to question his own species. It was going well. 

Until the alien said his ‘lifeclock’ is counting down to seconds of his life. That terrified him. All because he has the... tendency to feel bad. The tendency to help people from dying. He doesn’t want any deaths from his faults. Even though it was someone that isn’t part of their own species. It’s always like that. 

Dib tried to squish his head with both hands, wanting to beat up his brain from his decision earlier. He shouldn’t have done that. Look where that got him. A scar for his childhood. 

But-But! 

The alien’s lash was reasonable. He took out the life support that almost killed him from his minutes of questioning. He didn’t know how much time left. He didn’t know it was very short. He didn’t know he almost killed someone right at the last second. 

But the alien did. It must’ve scared him that much when he so getting worked up with Dib putting back his tubes one by one. 

Dib heavily exhaled the thoughts out, releasing his head from the hands gripping on the sides. He doesn’t know where to go from here. He wants to achieve being the famous paranormal investigator, but he can’t hurt the alien to death. Not after the pressure and the stress he had gone to instinctively save him. 

“Wuz you doin?” Dib jumped from the high-pitched voice coming from the robot. He didn’t look back at it. “N-Nothing. I’m thinking right now.” 

He heard robotic steps approaching. Then, the robot landed at the desk in front of him, which startled him even more. 

“What the he-!” 

“You seem sad,” the robot noted sadly, its constant grin turning upside down. Dib felt uneasy when it did that. He didn’t want anyone knowing his emotions that bad. He’s… well, too insecure talking about it. 

Dib just waved it away, “It’s fine, uh, robot. You can go back to your master or whatever.” 

The robot stared at him with a neutral expression, looking like a deer in the headlights. Dib just ignored it, massaging his temples from the upcoming headache. “I don like sad faces. It makes me saaaAA-” It was then the bot cried to the ground, rolling and hammering the floor like a child’s tantrum. Dib rolled his chair backward at the scene playing, quite embarrassed that he doesn’t know how to help. Dib knew dad’s inventions weren’t that genuine when in taking care of a human’s health. He’d experienced that before. It was only in their programming, not sentient. If it does have sentience though, dad would not approve of it. He doesn’t like his creations having emotions, to where to the point it would rebel. He knew that when he saw his father deactivating and throwing off the sentient machines he invented. He said to him it was as dangerous as human emotion does to a human itself. 

To conclude, this robot is a failed experiment. A sentient one that acts like a child, that’s for sure. Dad must’ve not known this robot is still within their home, mobile and functioning well. 

The bot began to bawling loudly, jolting Dib out of his chair to try and soothe the small bot. “Woah, woah. Quiet down.” The response was another wave of wailing. Dib was panicking from shushing the robot. That is, until he had given up to say, “Okay! I’ll tell you the reason! Just stay quiet!” 

That made the robot silent, smiling and anticipating. 

Dib waited as well, for any footsteps or angry shouts from the other room, dreading the result. 

To his surprise, nobody came. 

He sighed in relief and another set of exhaustion. 

“Hey, bot? If your master asks about this or what happened here.” He pointed out his chest that was now covered with a new shirt and a trench coat. “Can you please keep quiet and say that never happened at all?” He favored. 

“Hmmmmm...” It hummed for a long twenty seconds, which annoyed Dib a little. “Nope!” 

“What?! Why not?” 

“Not until you teeell what’s wrooong,” The robot singsonged. Dib narrowed, not desiring for a little chitchat with it after their own first chat just minutes ago. He observed that its behavior is too immature. Surely, it can’t talk like an adult. 

However, he got nothing left to lose. He has to keep this secret from dad. And to prevent another wail. 

“Alright, alright. Just promise me?” 

“Mhm!” It nodded enthusiastically. 

Dib sighed, shifting on his seat for comfort. “Well, it all started with this alien at some secret lab within my father’s building.” He looked back at the robot’s eyes. It was quiet and seemed to listen. So, he continued, “I interrogated him. Then I used his life support as an incentive. I put his support back before he was almost dead. Then, he attacked me. Hence, this gash.” He tries to look for any change of expression from the robot. But it only stared, unmoving. “I was thinking after all of that. I felt bad about what I did. But I didn’t want to give up on my dream job either. And I’ve been asking myself to what to do. Do I either spare him? Or keep going for my job for the paranormal?” He can’t believe he was asking for advice from a failed experiment dad made. It was like he was itching for guidance on what to do. His dad tried ‘his best’ to be a guide for him. But it wasn’t encouraging, especially his silent yet noticeable rejection from his dream job. 

“Sometimes,” The bot spoke up, which caught Dib’s gaze to it. “Pizza and waffles are both yummy. Never know what to choose! So that’s why I choose both! Cuz they’re booooth delicious! And my favorites,” The bot giggled, possibly daydreaming about the pizza and waffles. 

Dib was unconvinced. “That doesn’t make any sense. How are pizza and waffles related to each other? How are pizza and waffles even related to what we-“ If Dib had a floating lightbulb atop of his head, it would’ve lightened the minute he knew what it was trying to vocalize. “Wait… are you saying… that pizza and waffles are the symbolism for my dream and my morals? And to overcome those, they’ll have to work together? Choosing both choices?” Dib had his hand massaging his chin. 

“I dunno. Maybe,” It smiled, with a sort-of-tongue sticking out like a little child. 

Dib just paid no heed to its words, deeply going into his thoughts. 

But an underlying question remained to his head. How can he do that though? 

How could he try balancing his morals from his future job? The interrogation definitely isn’t a merciful idea nor getting to close to him. He’s too hostile to be coddled. 

“Aha!” Dib suddenly thought of an idea. “What if I could just give him some food and he could trade me with some questions for him to answer. But this time, I’m just gonna let things flow and let him have his time first. That way, his distrust will minimize. Will that work, robot?” He looked to where the robot is. But it wasn’t there. He turned to his back to find the bot opening the bag of candies. “I’m just gonna trust myself on this one then,” He agreed to himself. 

“Oh and uh, robot? Do you have a name or something?” 

It looked at him, eating the candies with plastic wrappers. “Mah name’s Gir! Master called me that.” 

“Okay, Gir,” Dib walked to Gir, holding out his hand to it. “Is it deal then? You won’t tell?” 

Gir stared at his hands as if it never knew how to handshake at all. It licked his hand, leaving saliva. Dib was grossed out. 

“Okay!” Gir said. 

Dib, still recently remedied, staggered to his bed and opened his laptop. He got the evidence from the camera. All he needs to do is paste it to the application form. The questions that he will be giving the next time is for paranormal research now. Just to be sure to what he was facing if ever an alien invasion happens. 

He finally made a decision. 

He worked on planning the questions by tomorrow for the next weekend to come. 

* * *

Zim sat by the glass wall, glaring tiredly at the bland white tiled ceiling. He just finished another behavioral test, which was all on talking and torturing the life out of him just to make him behave like a loyal pet he is. Zim, as always, puts on a fit. 

But those tests for the past few days, at least that’s what he felt like it is, wasn’t his concern. Rather it was when he encountered the human smeet again for the third time. 

At the point where the Human stink beast just pulled out those tubes, instantly made Zim’s mind stop working. He saw his lifeclock ticking down just after. And if he doesn’t comply with the smeet’s demands, he won’t live to see the messages of the Tallest. 

So he did answer the questions quickly, anxious about the countdown of shutting his life. This was the same thing that happened the first time they took his PAK. They just sliced it off his body, not knowing if it was still working or not. Now he doesn’t know if it was still alive. The PAK would try to do anything to get the humans off its core memories. It was his PAK. He’s persistent like that. 

Right when the small human got near Zim to attach the tubes, he wanted to flinch away from him. It was stupid. But after the rigorous tests he was given, he’s not sure if the feeling was stupid at all. The human was near him. He could take him away from the containment and make him talk or vivisect him at the scary white table. Or he could kill him right away when has the chance. 

So, Zim got scared and angry. When he got to finally move, he found the chance to hit him. It was all happening so fast, he didn’t see the taser just at the boy’s hand. He didn’t manage to catch him in time. He just laid there like the last time he was paralyzed. He just observed the human limping towards his equipment, while holding his wounded body. 

That was when Zim felt victorious. That was when he malevolently smiled for the defeat of the smeet. That was when he felt not so small towards humans anymore. He won that round. 

And that was also when he felt _something else._ Something he didn’t know he didn’t have before. 

He hated saying to his thoughts. The idea was merely disgusting. He could never want that feeling inside him again. 

Unfortunately for him, it kept lingering in his mind for when the time the tiny human gave him the favorable foods for Zim. 

The term “Nice” wasn’t on any human vocabulary. Or his either. It was just ‘naivety’, ‘stupidity’, and ‘incompetent’. For the most part. Other humans are just weird. 

The word wasn’t familiar to Zim’s documentation on the planet Urth. The only planets he had known to have that kind are the peaceful races. They were the ones that die easily from the Irken empire’s reign. Soon enough, this human will die on one Irken’s wrath or any species for that matter. 

The ‘however’ part was that he didn’t want to. 

Why? He had no idea. Maybe his PAK is gone and there’s no personality left of his Zimness. Except for one validating fact. That he didn’t want to admit for so long. 

He’s a defect. 

And if it were to like that, that meant Zim had a hesitation to exterminate anyone in his way. 

That was it. This feeling he subsided for long enough to come out of his thoughts to reflect. 

And he _hates_ it. 

But that was part of Zim now. 

He has to let it go, someway.

* * *

Subject Z’s ‘caretaker’ just arrived in his room. The alien was sleeping. Probably the tranquilizer that gave him that. 

The caretaker checked the controls, seeking if everything was alright. 

During that, he spotted at the side of his eye an unusual color. He tilted his head, searching for it. 

It was a bloodstain. 

The caretaker hummed in thought, curious and skeptical. He knew Subject Z wouldn’t bleed off the color red. Only humans are. And if it wasn’t the subject, it could have been someone that trespassed in here. 

He tried to look for more bloodstain evidence, but only found one on the door of the containment. 

He picked up a stained cloth from his pocket and went to the stain. He smudged his index and middle fingers to the blood, while the other hand that has the cloth cleaned it away. 

He needs to talk to Winslow about this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! We have our little baby boi Gir in the spotlight. And whaaat? Gir's statement actually helped?
> 
> Scientist-Caretaker-man-ish, give the boys some break!
> 
> Thank you for the kudos and comments!


	7. Chapter 7 - Truce?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dib decides to have a truce with the alien. A banter ensues. Gir introduces himself.

“You want to have a truce?” 

“Yes, that’s what I said four times,” Dib exasperatedly told. 

Zim narrowed his magenta eyes, glowering at him. He crossed his arms, not convinced with the offer. “And why would I do that?” 

Dib reluctantly reasoned, “I just want my guilt over after almost killing you last week. And the only thing I could do that while I still want to keep going for my soon-to-be job is being nice to you.” 

“Tch. What would you want me to do? Coddle you?” 

Dib got offended. “I’m not forcing you to do that, Zim,” the boy hissed. “I just want you to not attack or scream every time I talk or try to help you. There is one condition, I get to question you for a prize of food. That’s the truce.” 

The alien was skeptical, and Dib was annoyed. 

They’ve been squabbling about the offer back and forth for an hour. It was because Dib decided to have another talk with him after just the last week’s incident. Zim wasn’t buying any of it, just yet. 

“After the attempt you just made last time, human, Zim may be doubting your words of being ‘nice’,” Zim mocked. The boy tried to suppress the headaches already forming by holding his forehead with both hands, getting more and more irritated by the second. “You almost killed me with your claws! That seems even!” He lifted up his shirt to reveal the bandages wrapped around the upper body. It was sore and aches a lot but Dib can try to get used to it. 

The alien seemed to pause from the sight. His usual grumpy face turned to something softer. Did he feel sympathy? Pity? Dib may never know. Zim looked back at his gaze, with his suspicious look but a thoughtful one. He must be thinking. Or just deciding on a plan to just kill him right here. But this time Dib was prepared. 

“Well?” Dib impatiently said. 

“Fine! You got yourself a deal but I want the opposite of the condition,” He begrudgingly accepted. Dib squinted, “What do you mean?” 

“Zim means that you give me food for the prize of questioning me.” 

Dib sighed, not wanting another repeat for the last five minutes. “Okay, that’s fair.” 

“So how do you start of this… truce?” 

“Why don’t we start for introductions then?” He replied sheepishly. Honestly, he didn’t expect he would go this far. All he planned was what he had been expecting, Zim’s denial over the offer. That didn’t happen though. 

Thus, their little awkward introduction starting right now. 

“Eh, you start, human. You’re the one who started this truce.” 

Dib rubbed the back of his neck, not knowing the right words to even begin with. “Um. Ok, my name’s Dib Mem-“ 

“Hah! Your name stinks!” Zim remarked. Dib countered back, “No, my name is unique and cool as it is. Besides, Zim? What’s that? A name from-uh- a zipper? Cause it seems like it.” That was weak, of course. But it seemed like Zim took it as an offense. 

“Zim’s name is not a zipper! Your Dib name smells like poop!” 

“My name is not poop! You are!” 

“My Zim name is clearly superior than yours.” 

“There is no such thing as superior names at all. Wait a minute, how can you smell a name?” 

“You’re lying!” 

“Great excuse,” Dib scoffed. 

“Stupid human stink beast,” He heard Zim mutter under his breath. 

“Are you done commenting on my name? Are we ready to move on?” 

“Yes, yes. Just do your normal human introduction.” 

Dib huffed, “As I have said, the name's Dib Membrane. I’m a paranormal investigator. Which means I get to research all of the weird and unusual stuff happening. That includes you.” 

“How am I weird and unusual? That sounds more like you filthy pests.” 

“You’re an alien to us. We never knew aliens did exist so that’s why it’s unusual,” Dib pointed out like it was obvious. “Besides that, I’m just a smart kid in class. That’s all. Your turn.” 

Zim looked hesitant, probably asking himself why would he agree to this in the first place. And to be honest, Dib thought about it too. 

“I’m an elite soldi-wait! I’ve already told you all of that!” 

“Oh yeah...” Dib now rubbed his other arm, feeling embarrassed he even tried to ask him for introductions. He knew his name already, as well his species that much. “Well, do you know how old you are?” 

Zim looked at him quizzically but nonetheless answered, “On Irk, the technicality of my age is sixteen. But to your planet’s revolutionary years, It’s one-hundred twenty-three.” 

“Your Irk year is equivalent to eight Earth years?” Dib awed. So, other planets farther than their solar system do either revolutionize longer and shorter than them. _Must be nice_ , Dib thinks.

“Suppose so.” 

“That’s neat, you get to live longer than us,” Dib expressed quite sadly. Other species can live longer to see possibly everything. While his people were just hanging out on their own home planet. 

Zim cackled, “Makes you think your species is much more fragile than any other ones on a universal scale.” 

The boy scowled back, “You don’t have to rub it in.” 

“What? Zim did not rub something.” 

“Don’t you know- okay, this is going to go longer so let’s get on with this. I have a school night and I need to finish my homework on time so...” Dib fumbled with his stuff in his backpack while Zim stared at the boy with sudden curiosity. 

Dib brought out the snacks that the alien preferred of. Chocolate bars and candies for Zim, and chips for himself. “Here. I’ll be around here for a while until you finish those. Besides, there’s no trash can here.” He surveyed the area to find not a single small trash bin. Zim looked at the stuff, both a little awestruck and suspicious. Dib rolled his eyes. “The truce, remember? I’m not gonna interrogate you. Will you do me a favor to not attack me if I open that door?” He gestured the door of Containment 16. The Irken seemed to resist the favor but groaned in defeat. 

“Fine. Don’t steal my food,” He conditioned, and Dib understood. He effortlessly unlocked the door and cautiously walked up near Zim. That meant he was doing small steps, seeing his reaction if the hostility arises. Zim was also wary of him, too. He huddled himself to the glass wall far away from the machine. Dib guessed it makes sense, he did take out his tubes and was preparing if he ever tried to destroy the machine that connects them. 

For the benefit of both, Dib just threw the preferred foods to the alien. The throw hit Zim with a couple of candies and chocolates, which made him angry but didn’t comment on it as he messily unwrapped the plastic wrappers, and by he meant the alien ripped it to shreds. That left the leftovers all over around Zim, which made Dib also mad for cleaning that up afterwards. 

Dib opened his bag of chips and ate it, watching Zim’s movement and reaction if he goes wild. It looked like Zim was having fun eating the sugary stuff, Dib wondered if the facility even gave him nutrition. 

They ate their snacks quite uncomfortably. With Zim’s loud crunching of the chocolate bars and Dib’s tense stare at the alien on an eerie containment room, of course, it would be unpleasant. But other than that, it was nice that they didn’t try fighting for at least five minutes. 

“I had a SIR unit,” Zim spoke up when he abruptly halted his eating. Dib perked up, the newfound interest of an unexpected turn of information. “There was The Great Assigning for Irkens that are ready for invading other planets. Each one of those has to have a robotic assistant. We call them SIR unit. The Standard-Issue Information Retrieval unit. They are the ones that assist Irken Invaders to rule planet by planet.” Zim looked up at Dib, “Have you seen mine?” 

Dib held down his chips, gazing at him with sympathy. “No, I haven’t had the time to explore this place, yet.” 

They stared at each other’s gazes, one was disappointed and the other was apologetic. Dib noticed Zim’s antennae after he just said that. They jerked a little, sensing nervousness. He must’ve been attached to his assistant if that was the case. But Dib may be wrong. Irkens, at least what he said to be, are emotionless and strong species. They were only made of what they are made to do. 

“Does it have a name I could call with?” Dib asked, a bit anxious that Zim may lash out to leave it alone. 

But Zim just glared and said, “GIR. His name is GIR.” 

Dib’s chips were dropped, mouth agape with a shock of realization. 

“Yes, mastah?” The loud voice from Dib’s back made him jump away. He whirled his head to see Gir just standing behind him, with its usual goofy smile and tongue stuck out. 

“Gir!” 

“GIR?!” 

“Grrr,” Gir innocently and playfully growled. 

Dib got to his feet and checked on the robot. “How did you get here?” 

“GIR?” Dib hastily swiveled to Zim, whose look is in disbelief and angered confusion. 

Gir waved at him gleefully, who seemed like it knows Zim better than him. Which it was technically true, now that he knows. “Heya master! Look what I have.” Gir showed a miniature alien toy. It- He waved it like mad. Dib distinctly remembered he gave that thing to Gir just a few days ago to shut him up from having another tantrum. 

Zim kept his eyes on his robotic assistant, gaping with shock himself. He then locked his gaze to Dib, scowling. 

“He’s been with you the whole time?!” 

“Just a week ago! I thought he was dad’s stuff, not yours! 

“What’s with the screaming?!” Gir shouted with the same excitement Dib heard from him every day. 

Zim was still enraged, ordered Gir with obvious controlled anger. “GIR!” 

“Yes, Sir!” Gir instantly dropped the toy and saluted Zim, standing straight. The difference in him now was that his glowing blue eyes changed into a red color. That made him a little more intimidating.

“Tell me on how on Irk did you even escape in this revolting place!” 

“Yessir!” the robot quickly changed his stony cold expression to a giddy one, the red color turned back into blue. “You see, master. It all started with me finding a flyyiiing tiny bug. Then I escaped!” he whooped with laughter, his small robot hands raised above his head. 

Zim slammed his face at his hand, grunting with annoyance. Then, Gir’s prattling ensues. 

From what Dib sees, it seemed like this conversation between the two had been going on for a long time. The way the alien just accepts the answer without any more arguments and Gir mindlessly play while answering his questions. Except that, Gir’s answers didn’t make sense. Which Dib was used to by now. After a week of Gir hanging around his room being kept secret from dad, it’s hard to take care of a robot who has so much energy and immaturity. Gaz visited his room one day and convinced Gir to play video games with her but for a price. He doesn’t know what but it worked out in the end. 

“-And then it flew inside a small cage door thingy! It was fuuun,” Gir beamed. 

“Wait, Zim?” Dib cut in on the conversation. “Why aren’t you devising a plan right now? Your assistant is here to help you, right?” 

Zim just sneered at the boy, “You don’t know how GIR works. He doesn’t assist me at most. Like this. GIR!” Gir saluted him again with the posture of a soldier. “Go on Defensive Mode,” He demanded and Gir nodded. 

Dib saw the scene played out. It was Gir… playing the miniature toy, making childish sounds of an airplane. He stared at the bot, undoubtedly disappointed. He thought Gir was something to it. But he guessed it’ll probably take some practice. Since, well, he is acting like a child. 

He went to look at the alien, who deadpanned at Gir. He wanted to somehow apologize without showing his utmost sincerity. After all, he never even showed the slightest of being wholehearted for his whole childhood. It’s hard when people judge him for who he was. Even harder when the family members were so closed off. Even so, he needs the truce to work. And to start that, he’ll have to apologize. 

“Hey, Zim?” Dib called too softly, like he didn’t want to say it and that maybe he’ll ignore it. But his antennae flinched, and Zim hummed in acknowledgment. Dib averted his eyes from him for a moment, slowing his eating process and trying to think on how to say it appropriately. “I guess I’m sorry about what I did. For the tubes and your life and all that.” 

He gave a sideways glance at Zim, who was glaring, “An apology isn’t going to help me or you at all.” 

“I’m trying, okay?” Dib says frustratedly, arms stretched to show it was a big deal. 

“Trying what?” Zim scorned. 

“I’m trying to make this truce work. Look, the tubes were unfair. I shouldn’t have done that. I could’ve killed you, y’know?” 

“Isn’t that what you wanted? To kill me?” 

Dib wheeled his eyes to Zim, incredulous. “What? No, no, no, I didn’t want that. I just want you for evidence to enter a group that involves aliens and other things… to experiment,” Dib trailed off, slowly realizing the explanation couldn’t be more specific and distrustful. The alien just scoffed and kept eating the sweets, while Dib is left with his thoughts. 

Time stretched far enough for Dib, once again, to go home. 

“How am I supposed to clean your mess if you don’t move?!” 

“I can clean it myself, Dib-stink!” 

Dib rolled his eyes, “You can’t even open a candy wrapper properly.” 

“Eh... This is the way I unwrap it!” 

“Don’t be a baby and just move to the side.” 

Zim grumbled but he begrudgingly complied. 

Dib was able to pick up the pieces with the help of Gir. “Gir, do me a favor and vacuum the pieces of wrappers over there.” He pointed the shredded wrappers to where Zim sat before, who was now near the machine. “Uh-huh!” Gir obeyed and started using his mouth as the vacuum. “Hey!” Dib looked up and turned to Zim. “Since when does GIR obey to you?” 

He shrugged in response, “He’s been with me the whole week. I’ve learned a lot.” 

He did learn about Gir. For the whole week, Gir’s been nothing but bothersome throughout after Skool’s dismissal. He had been poking around, touching his valuable materials, and went into Gaz’s room. In times though, he could be useful. Like when he asked him to bring a wrench from the garage and immediately, he got what he wanted (and also a squirrel for himself). When the both of them had the free time to watch TV, Gir tolerated him watching different channels than what he always watches, which was a kid’s show that Dib didn’t know about its title. It was also nice that Gir could be comic relief but becomes an annoyance when he goes far longer. Only he and Gaz knew about Gir, so it was hard keeping him locked in the room without dad noticing. 

“All done!” Gir announced. 

Dib nodded and picked up a chewing bone toy from the bag. Gir squealed and snatched the toy, putting it in his mouth as a whole and chewing it. “I’ve learned Gir can be tamed with a little prize. He loves everything so I bought whatever,” He informed. 

As Dib put his own trash to the bag, he called for Gir to come over and go in the bag. 

He knew the small robot would do it because he had done it before. Back in a few days, Gir had been stalking around the school searching for Dib. Or sometimes just hanging around other students. The reason he told him is he was bored and wanted to go out. Dib was indecisive about it but he agreed on bringing Gir to school. Dad won’t notice because he doesn’t keep tabs on what they’re doing in school. The students are stupid and oblivious. And the adults inside are “too busy” to notice the difference between a human child to a small robot. Overtime, Gir earned the popularity while Dib just watched on the sidelines, impressed that Gir managed to make the most of the students like him. He was thankful when Gir defended him from the bullies pushing him again inside the locker. Although, it was more like “Heeello fat people! Hi Mary! Wanna check what I fouuund?” that made the bullies red-faced of shame from the laughter of Gir’s fans. The best part was that the laughter wasn’t aiming at him at the time. 

Gir casually got inside while chewing on the toy. Dib didn’t close it all the way to provide Gir some air and space (Do robots need air?). 

“Alright, Zim?” He called, making Zim jerk up to him. The boy lifted up the bag with a little struggle since Gir is inside it. “We’ll meet again next week. I’ll try to make this truce work. Just don’t tell the other people inside this place.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Just go with GIR before he shrieks that can cause an alarm.” 

He nodded and crawled inside the vents. He felt satisfied that the plan worked out. Now, there are more things to do. Dib needs to be prepared. He was so lucky that dad had another meeting in Russia. Gonna take weeks for him to come back but those weeks Dib will be spending for his paranormal research and Zim's activites.

* * *

The secret relief escaped when GIR was there and not dismantled. That faded when he eyed back at the Dib later on.

And as Zim stared at the Dib-human crawling away with a locked vent lid, he felt the heaviness that’s been clinging on for the longest time disappeared. He doesn’t know what to feel about this. He just hoped this human will be foolish enough to get Zim out of this containment. 


	8. Chapter 8 - A Little Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They started out with a deck of cards and a song.

“Oh yeah? Well I was the only kid who got straight A’s in every subject!” 

“Hah! Foolish Dib, I've been promoted from a normal soldier to an elite one!” 

“Pfft, please. You can’t even get out of this facility.” 

“Are you challenging me?” 

“I’d like to see you try,” Dib smirked as he put down the card of Wild Draw 4 to the pile of other UNO cards. Zim gave him a gasp of disbelief on why he would do such a thing. “That is not fair! That’s not a red color!” 

Dib tried his best to not roll his eyes at the stupidity. “I told you before. That card is a wild card. It can be any color. Now get four more cards and let me beat you.” 

The alien growled in frustration, “This is outrageous!” But he did it anyway. 

They’ve been going on this game for probably half an hour. Surprisingly, no scientists were coming up at his containment, which for Dib is luck on his part. Zim, however, hasn’t been faring the best. 

Not after Dib peers at the vent to see Zim being thrown again at his cell like a ragdoll. He has newfound burns and scratches but some of the skin was just bandaged. At that point, Dib decided his plan on the truce would make it entertaining rather than the interrogating style. He talked to Zim at that time, he would try something new like showing him how to play UNO. If Zim wins, he would do anything for Dib to fetch him with except the conditions listed out (escaping the containment and facility, obviously). If Dib wins, he gets to ask ten questions to Zim first then giving him the food he wanted. At first, he had the confidence that the green creature would be a fast learner. Now, he never felt more irritated by the idiocy of how Zim’s logic works. He may be an elite alien soldier but he’s slow on thinking what to do. 

And that’s how their rant on who’s being the best in everything started. They could go for hours on bragging on each other. Maybe even days if Dib had the energy to talk. Sleep deprivation is a pain in the butt that Dib wouldn’t try to play until he gets to be older to use it. 

Right now, there is a pile of used UNO cards stacked disorderly but able to see what’s the recent card on the top. Dib had only three cards left while Zim is left with five. Admittedly, Dib was stunned at how Zim progressed. Yes, he is stupid but he learned strategies right away. 

Dib’s smugness made Zim recoil with utter disgust. He really doesn’t like someone winning against him. This made the boy’s competitiveness ascend to overconfidence. “I pick color green, to which I put down a green block card.” Zim was about to prepare his card until Dib cut him off. “No, it’s not your turn. I blocked you, remember?” He earned a loud grumble. “Which means...” Dib laid down the green number five. He has one left. 

“Un-” 

“UNO!” 

Dib jerked up towards Zim, shocked that he got beaten on saying it. While Zim cackled in victory, smacking down a card of a green reverse card. Then, it turned to red color of the reverse card. Until he planted the Draw 2 card. One left. 

Before the boy was about to shout it off, Zim got to him first. “UNO!” 

Alas, he got his last card down to show a wild card. 

“HAH!” 

Dib was dumbfounded at the defeat by someone who barely knows the game. Was he losing touch? No. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation’s fault happening. The alien laughed haughtily, standing up, posing with both hands on his hips and legs stretched out. Looking like he just won a big trophy or something, which Dib deadpans of. Zim stared down at Dib, pointing at him with great disdain and with his shit-eating grin. “You’re BEAT! Victory for ZIM.” 

The boy sighed to himself, upset. “Yeah, yeah. You win. What do you want?” He tried to resist pouting off of something so simple as a game, but his age thinks otherwise. 

Zim cackles, “I want more food AND for you to say “I’m a petty, feeble, little loser and my name actually stinks.”” 

Dib inwardly groaned in protest but resentfully accepted it. After all, it was Dib’s idea who made this deal in the first place. 

“I’m a petty, feeble, little loser and my name actually stinks,” He repeated with no emotion. Despite that, Zim just laughs and makes fun of him for who knows how long. Particularly, his hair. Dib shuts his hearing from his jabbering, cleaning the messy bundle of cards splayed out. He glanced at Gir for a moment, checking if he does something stupid as blaring the alarms. He doesn’t trust him to be responsible for himself. Not after for the past two weeks. Fortunately, Gir was playing with his food and chewing toy he bought (again) three days ago. The previous one was swallowed up and never spat it out. He wonders what’s the inside of Gir’s body, if he ever does have a stomach or a blending machine. 

“Now bow! For I’m your future slave master!” Zim said dramatically. 

“Zim, just because you won on a game of cards doesn’t mean you get to rule the world,” Dib corrected, who stacks the cards back into its box. Zim snorted back, “That’s what you think! One day, I will be.” 

Dib stopped in deep thought. It could be true. Not because of the cards, but for this alien’s whole empire. They could eliminate their planet in a second without hesitation. They could enslave the people and do their bidding. Those are the things that always comes into his mind when aliens are the core of his research. 

So, he locked his gaze to Zim’s, firmly saying, “If you do, I can and I will stop you.” 

Zim frowns for a bit, chuckling darkly, “You’re a mere smeet. A child.” 

Dib abruptly got to his feet, glaring daggers to him. “Since when does that matter?” 

There was a pregnant pause between the two of them. The atmosphere felt thin, Dib could barely give in some air. Zim looked angry. Dib looked determined to stand his point. His breathing elevated but wasn’t detectible for Zim to see. His heart thumping rapidly in slight fear at the face of aggression who clawed his chest. In spite of it, Dib’s mind stays strong. He promises himself that if someone threatens his home planet, he’ll be ready for it. Young or old. Injured or stable. He won’t back down. 

This staredown lasted until Gir randomly maniacally laughed. Dib turned away from Zim to glance at the robot, who was just laughing at the miniature toy being forced to stick into the bowl of melted cheese. He’d given that cheese for the ride to the Labs. Gir was getting whiny at the time and Dib didn’t want to leave him in his room. 

With Gir’s distraction for Zim to predictably rant on him, he shoved down the box of UNO on his bag and dug out all of the sweets. He harshly threw one of the sweets to Zim’s head. It was successful, Zim sent a look. 

The boy sniggered. 

Zim was about to stride towards him before Dib held his hands up in front of his chest. 

“You sniveling little meat-!” 

“Alright, I’ll give you the food. Hold up,” He stopped him with a tinge of amusement. He tossed all of the little candies away from the bag and carried the bars of chocolate. He took a glimpse of Zim collecting the candies with more incomprehensible muttering. Shrugging that off, he brought down the bars near Zim, making sure he has distance. Zim snatches the food and easily rips the wrappers off. 

Dib backed away, letting the alien eat the stuff... wildly as a wild animal. He now sat outside of the containment n the same position he was last week. He had his bag packed up beside him, with a holler for Gir to follow behind. At this point, the robot got used to going along with him after he told him to not touch anything while they’re in a public place. He’s obedient and loyal but sometimes, not exactly. 

He leaned against the glass wall, sighing the burden loaded on him. Apparently, the Swollen received his video of him interrogating Zim and got him in. As a part of the group, they've been giving him minor assignments that correlate to his research. About some unidentified entity living in some abandoned warehouse just at the pier. It was allegedly the murder of the missing children who must’ve wandered around the warehouse. Specifically, the teenagers. The public believed it was just an insane man who lived there. The Swollen Eyeball suspected the problem that there were no body count and footsteps in there but a puddle of blood and a monster-like foot tracks. This police report had been abandoned for weeks. This was assigned to him without knowing Dib’s actual age. 

He traveled to the pier to investigate the warehouse. He only discovered the bloody tracks and police tapes. He tried to follow the tracks but it all leads to the sea. He even tried to camp there but his dad insisted him not to. 

He reported it to the leader, and he just received an “ok” accomplishment. That made Dib’s self-esteem weaken, doubting his skills if he’s really ready to be a paranormal investigator. 

Zim kind of helped him playing UNO just so he could feel his confidence when teaching him. Although, that died when Zim was slow on the rules and won the game. 

Dib rummaged through the stuff he has in his bag. He knew he would get bored during Zim’s eating time. In that case, he charged up his phone and brought his earphones for music relaxation. Plugging the earphones into his ears and phone, he turned on his favorite music playlist. 

For his whole life, there’s been nothing good but judgment and ignorance. Considering his dream to a professional paranormal, which rarely used to be a job at all. And everything he does is called to be weird. Except his like for music. They sometimes give him an odd look when he listens to songs that, for them, are normal. Dib wishes, for once, they wouldn’t judge him that way. Gaz and dad may be an exception but they just show that they don’t care about what he does. 

Dib subconsciously closes his eyes from the music playing out the soft melody. It was comforting and calming. That’s why he liked it. 

He then recognizes the faint sighting of the ceiling as he was just closing his droopy eyes. That got him to blink longer and open with renewed leftover energy. Of course, he would be tired, why wouldn’t he? He moved his pupils to his phone to see the twelve at midnight just struck. 

He wasn’t used to sleeping late yet. He practices for when the time comes of having late-night missions on paranormal investigating. Usually, otherworldly creatures appear during nights like these so staying with Zim would be a nice exercise to stay up at night. 

He put away the phone to his lap, head resting against the glass wall. 

His eyelids felt heavy-lidded, wanting to close and just sleep it off. His arms and legs felt too heavy to move. He felt his hand slipping the phone. That was when he got to shut his mind down, finally resting without thoughts flurrying around his head. 

That was until he heard a bang and vibration behind him. Startled, he widened his eyes and hastily swiveled to see Zim shooting him a look of aggravated curiosity. Dib backtracked away from the wall, suspiciously questioning, “What?” 

Zim’s eye twitches, irritated, “Zim has been calling you several times and you do not listen!” 

Dib paused his playlist and took a look inside the containment. It has scattered crumbs of chocolate wafers and candies. There were few plastic wrappers shed off. Instead of being scattered, Zim had the decency to pile the wrappers in one place. It looked like a small hill of ripped plastic. 

He gazed back at the alien, who was kneeling, waiting impatiently for a reply or any retort. “What are you calling me for?” 

He pointed out the phone. “That, Dib-stink. What is that?” He asked, narrowing his gaze towards the phone. Dib cocks an eyebrow and answers, “This is a phone. We use this for, like, everything.” 

It was Zim’s turn to raise a... well, hairless eyebrow, “That includes what?” 

“It’s hard to explain it all.” Dib rubs the back of his neck, averting to look at something else. “But basically, what I do know is that it’s for communication and sometimes entertainment.” 

Zim hummed in question. “What are you using it for now?” 

“Entertainment.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I’m getting bored,” He huffed, putting the only thing of his relaxation time to the bag. “Since you’re done with the food, I can ask the questions now.” He shuffles his position to where Zim is, but outside for safety. 

“No,” Zim heavily protested. “Since Zim has won your game, I can do whatever I want!” 

“Zim, we’re past that-” 

“NO! Zim has won of your card game, which means Zim wins this day. Ask me when you have nothing to challenge me of. It’s part of the deal, yes?” 

Dib repressed an angry grunt. “That doesn’t make any sense! You’ve just won a game of cards. You already asked me to bring more food and repeat what you say. That was part of the deal.” 

“Zim can still do whatever he pleases. You did not mention the specificity of the time of the deal’s expiration, Dib-idiot. It’s only fair for me to presume that way,” He smirks. Dib frowned because he was right. Dib didn’t say anything about how much time or how much wishes he wants to wish upon. He outplayed the deal. 

With a begrudging regret, he said, “Fine. Okay, what is it now?” 

“I want to hear what you’ve just heard of,” He favored bluntly, to which it confused Dib. “What?” 

“The sound. The sound erupting from your ‘phone’,” He emphasizes as he looks at the bag. “What is that sound?” 

Dib pulled out the phone and played the playlist. The volume was moderate as it played the soft music he had used earlier. Zim jumped from his kneeling position and had his alien finger point to his phone. “That! What is that sound? Why is it...” Zim halts, thinking of something to describe what he was just hearing. “Weird sounding?” 

The boy scrunched his face up, a confused expression showing out. “It’s music. Don’t you know music?” Dib reluctantly questioned, not sure if he does know or not. It could either be that he knows music but doesn’t know this kind or doesn’t know at all. 

His thoughts were answered as Zim slightly shook his head, saying, “Zim has never encountered this ‘music’ back when I observed planet Urth.” 

Dib bit his lip, looking at Zim and the phone back and forth without tilting his head. He asks first before he could decide any further, “Do you wanna try it out?” 

He scans his face for any digression or distrust, but it seemed like he looks dazed while he stares at the phone. Dib snapped him out. “Hey, Zim.” That got Zim’s attention, looking like a deer in headlights. The alien tries to cover his vulnerability by clearing his throat. “Uh-no to whatever you just said.” 

Dib furrows his brow, expression blank. “So you don’t want to try this out then?” He shows his phone in front of Zim, shaking it to taunt. The alien’s face scowls at the teasing but was hesitant to decide. Dib sighs, “So you do want to.” 

Zim twitched, “I did not say anything.” 

“Well, your doubtful statement seems to differ. Hold on.” The boy stood and walked over to the door, glancing a bit to Gir. He seemed content, sleeping (Do robots sleep?) soundly with cheese bowl splattered to his head. The toy was at his hand, stained with cheese. Satisfied with the sight, he opened the lock and entered in. 

Zim scuttled for a little, still cautious with Dib coming near him. Why wouldn’t he? He’d been dragged up and down by the scientists, throwing him back in the cell afterward with a new set of burns and cuts. If he were in his position, he would too. 

Dib gripped his phone tightly, also wary that he might jump and attack. He held his stance though, thus he made it to sit inside the cell with a good amount of distance. He lends the phone to Zim’s hesitant open three-fingered hand. He sees Zim scrutinizing the technology, curious how it looks or plays. So, Dib gestured out the play button. The alien did not flinch nor push him away. Rather he followed what he showed and pressed it. 

The music plays again, the soft harmonic tune releasing to spread. Dib kneels down, observing the alien mesmerized by the phone playing the music. He noticed the antennae standing upright, seemingly eager. His gaze locked on the phone and looked awed, faintly seeing a small twitch of a smile. The boy stares, softening his features at the sight. The alien seemed... genuinely at ease. His tranquil gaze towards the phone as the beautiful notes come out. His hand softened from the grasping the tech. And the antennae bent down slowly, possibly comforted by what he was hearing. 

But when Dib looked at the alien entirely, his stomach churned. There were more cuts and black spots than he had last seen him. It seemed like the tests were taking the next level of torment. It made the scientists look more like predators than him. He looked like a victim. 

Dib swallows a lump on his throat, trying to think of something else as he turns over to his watch. He still has half an hour before going back home. 

Puffing out the heavy dismay, he laid his body to the glass wall. He’s still inside the containment, though. Dib suddenly forgot the thought of it. But he laid it off, enjoying the music. The wall he leaned never felt more inviting to rest on. 

Dib looks his now half-lidded eyes to Zim, also leaning against the wall, relaxing at the slow beats of the piano. He guessed, that this truce will do fine. 

Without his permission, he closed his eyes, letting the mind and body finally rest. 

“DIB-HUMAN!” 

Or maybe not. 

Dib immediately sat upright, eyes fearfully alarmed. He got jostled out with two sharp hands shaking him onto consciousness. He instinctively swatted away the sharps claws almost sunk into his skin (at least, that’s what he felt like it). 

The first thing he sees was another figure, green-skinned, and wore a light bluish dress. It more looked like a hospital gown. The figure’s face glaring at him, narrowing his unusual magenta eyes. 

Dib, slowly but surely, began to discern what he was looking at. 

“Wake up and move your small puny feet! Now!” Zim shouted. With a sudden touch on his shoulder, he got pushed away from the comfort of leaning on the wall and shoved him near the door, which meant he landed on the ground. Dib made a pained sound for a second until he got to get ahold of his head, feeling a headache rising. The boy twisted his head to the alien behind, scowling. “What was that for?” 

Zim scoffs, “You’ve closed your eyes for a long time. Inside of Zim’s containment. I will not accept that. Out with you!” 

Dib mumbled something about calling him instead of pushing him to the ground. He struggled to get back up as he just had a head beginning to ache from the hit of the ground. He took smalls steps to get to the doorway, which was open. 

“Hey, Dib-idiot!” Zim calls out. Dib grumbles, not having the energy to speak from the grogginess. He was then hit at the back of his head with something solid and metallic. He wondered why he didn’t have a concussion yet. Dib swiftly turned to Zim’s, anger and frustration shooting at Zim’s evil grin. “That’s what I call vengeance, Smelly boy.” 

He was about to ask what he forgot, blatantly ignored the karma, but he looked down at what caused him an almost bump to his head. 

It was his phone. 

“Now shoo! I had GIR already cleaning the mess and his mess. Go before I make you,” Zim shoos, hands flailing as a gesture to get out. Dib had nothing to think of due to the exhaustion filling in his head, so he just ignored it and walked out. He locked the door and got his drive. He had Gir to call out and slacked his bag at his back. He didn’t look back as he crawled to the vents, Gir happily following behind. All he could think about is sleep.

* * *

Zim glowers at the vents, thinking. 

It’s a scary thought. It’s scary that he didn’t make an attempt to escape. It’s even scarier that he helped the human escape before in time his ‘caretakers’ entered in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more like a filler chapter because I wanted fluff for these two idiots. But this somehow builds up for their friendship and the relationship with others (like establishing Gir’s contentment with Dib and Dib getting used to taking care of Gir.) so, there’s that. 
> 
> And geez, I really need to give Zim some more fluffy chapters. He needs a hug, dangit.


	9. Chapter 9 - Homework and Bullies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A drawing contest and an awkward talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I'm still making summaries, I suck at it.

Dib scattered out the collection of crayons and papers for Zim to choose. 

“Just try to draw what you want. It’s a way to express something you can’t say,” explained Dib, handing out the plastic bag of candies and chocolates to Zim. 

The alien seemed excited when the sweets were presented and just snatch it every time he lends. 

“Well, that’s what I think,” He shrugs. 

“Why the need to express?” Zim asked, ripping the plastic off with his razor-sharp claws and the little candies scattered on the floor, where the papers and crayons laid out. Dib didn’t mind though, as he replied, “We're humans. We have emotions. It’s a form of entertainment, I guess. Or something to do when you’re bored.” The boy picked up a blue crayon, his favorite color. He had the crayon point to Zim and to the other crayons. “Pick a color of your crayon and just draw whatever.” 

He demonstrated by getting the paper near him and used the chosen crayon to make a blue rough drawing of a stickman. Zim nodded in understanding, copying the same way. He picked a color red and slid a blank sheet in front of him. He struggled to hold it while trying to copy the drawing Dib made, but he managed to make a wonky stickman. 

Dib nodded at the accomplishment. “You did well. Now try your own style.” 

Zim's face squinted, looking back at Dib. “Zim doesn’t know any drawing styles.” 

“As I said, draw whatever. Go nuts. Think of something.” Dib waved him off as he began scribbling what he imagined to draw with. He’s not good with it, but drawing a rocket would be the easiest term to describe what he wanted someday. Besides, this is for the homework after all. He forgot to take it earlier in time, so he had an idea to take it to Zim’s containment to make it as his activity and for Dib as his homework. 

He flipped the paper to a blank one, saving the others for later use. First, he drew the base of the rocket. For that, he drew the shape of an oblong vertically. Next, was drawing the bent triangles on each side on the bottom, for the little wings that control the rocket’s balance. He drew another triangle on the top, not bent but equilateral. Troubled with the triangle intersected at the curved oblong on top edge, he shaded the triangle with color blue (since Zim still has the red crayon). Adding the little details left, like a small trapezoid at the bottom to ignite a scribble of fire and a circle inside the base for the window. 

It didn’t occur to him that Zim has been watching him until he finished the shadings with his drawing. He glanced at the alien’s paper. To which it has the same object he was drawing but in the color red. 

Dib raised an eyebrow at him, “Zim, you do know you can draw anything, right?” 

Zim sputtered, “Uh-well, yes! I chose to draw yours!” It was obvious he doesn’t know and just deflected it with his annoying high-pitched arrogance. 

The boy dropped down his crayon and arms outstretched, showing the whole room they were in. “Look around your room. Try to see any object you would want to draw.” 

Zim scanned his surroundings, really trying to search for something. He then straight up looked at him, which made him uncomfortable with other’s eyes staring right at his face. 

“Does a person count a drawing?” Zim asked, with a tinge of malevolence. Dib narrowed his eyes to him. 

“Yeah, why so?” Dib narrows. 

Zim had a sly grin, telling him nonchalantly, “Oh, for Zim to draw you, of course!” 

Dib knew that he’s gonna draw bad for Dib’s overly appearance, so he decided to join as well. “Alright, drawing battle. Whoever has the most accurate representation of their opponent win.” 

Both boys glared daggers to each other, with Gir clapping in the background. 

“And what will be the prize?” 

“You get to have three wishes. If I win, I get to lessen the food supply I’ve been giving you.” 

“What?!” 

“Oh come on, Zim. I’m running out of allowance. Barely left for school lunch. Also, the condition is that the prize isn’t gonna last for a day. Only for like thirty minutes,” Dib added. 

Dib had his hand for Zim to shake, eyes sternly facing the alien’s. “Deal?” 

The alien chuckled in a sense of evilness. Without knowing what he was doing, he shook Dib’s hand with his three-fingered ones. “Deal.” 

The alien and the boy sat straight, both reaching to get new papers. Dib knuckled his fists, albeit failing, and grabbed some crayons. After that, Zim just shoved the whole other crayons to his side, smirking. Ignoring it, Dib turns to his back to draw, preventing for Zim to copy his style. He heard shuffling, so Zim must’ve done it too. 

Then they start drawing. 

* * *

After for the past twenty minutes, they’ve done their artwork. 

There were some difficulties while doing it. Dib asked Zim to fetch him the black crayon from his side. They fought about it, but Dib got to convince him nonetheless. And when it was Zim’s turn to borrow, he was demanding. Dib refuses and it took a long brawl just to tease Zim from not sharing the crayon. 

Dib wanted to peak in Zim’s art, giving him a dirty look when Zim already saw him peeking around, who also held a look. 

“I’m done, what about you?” Dib asked as if their death stares didn’t happen a second ago. He looked back at his art, a snigger came out as he overly looked at it. 

Zim finally replied, must’ve finished the touches of his ‘great’ drawing. “Yes, Dib-stink. May we show our works?” The voice had the usual villainous trickery that Dib hates a lot. 

“Sure, let’s do that then,” He gritted his teeth, suppressing his laugh as he turns in front of Zim, paper flipped and hidden from the alien’s sight. It was Zim’s turn to face him, also hiding the paper he drew of, with a few snapped crayons behind. Dib angrily pouts, “Why did you break the crayons?” 

Zim shrugged, smiling smugly. “You’re stupid coloring ‘cree-yons’ are weak, they can’t handle Zim’s mighty grip.” 

Dib almost slammed his face with his hand, stopping the urge to smack the alien’s stupid face. Instead, he crosses his arms, with the paper beside him. “Since you seem SO confident,” He mocks. “Why don’t you start with your drawing?” 

Zim cackles hard, his zipper-like teeth showing out, gritting. “Yes! Of course,” He says gravely and maliciously, it gave Dib chills down his spine. Yes, sometimes, Zim is intimidating. But he won’t admit to that. 

The alien flipped his paper to where the drawing is and revealed it to Dib. 

The drawing was obviously Dib, signs of him were his iconic dark-colored zigzag hair and big glasses. But the way Zim drew was that his head is wiggly as if there was a struggle in drawing it (Or maybe he drew it on purpose). The brown colored eyes were big but not that big enough to overstep his curvy circular head. The mouth was drawn to look like a cartoon mouth with each tooth too separated. It was as big as the eyes. And it was drawn at the side. The inside of the mouth was red-colored, with the color shaded a few teeth that shouldn’t be there. The body was shaped to be a very, _very_ , small vertical circle, colored with black that most likely represented his trench coat. The arms and legs were just thin red. 

Dib knew Zim would draw him like that. His head is huge for everyone to notice it was abnormal, even though for Dib, it wasn’t. It didn’t surprise or anger him that much. But there was one that was - at least he knew – not supposed to be a part of himself. On the left side of his cheek was a purple-colored circle. He stayed quiet from questioning it, excitement floored his curiosity. He wants Zim's reaction to his ‘masterpiece'. 

“Wow, very beautiful.” Dib’s uninterested mockery made Zim on edge. “What?! You’re not mad?!” 

Dib shakes his head, deadpanned, “You think I don’t know what you’re doing. You’re intentionally making it bad.” 

Zim gaped angrily, wanting to retort or make an excuse. “This drawing was not being intentionally bad!” 

The boy faked gasped, “Oh, right I’m very sorry. If it wasn’t intentional at all, then it IS bad.” He was smirking, pleased that Zim was fuming and contorted. The alien growled, readying for an attack until Dib frantically told him it was his turn. 

He grabbed the drawn paper and showed it to Zim in front of his face. 

For two seconds silence, was when Zim blew up, “WHAT?!” 

And when Dib laughed, as if he hadn’t laughed in years. (Well, that was partly true.) 

Apparently, Dib imagined the alien as a four-legged monster-like creature when the assignment from the Swollen Eyeball popped up in his head. He purposefully made his head to be shaped like a badly drawn square. The black antennae twirled to an exaggerated spiral. His eyes were just shaded to be pink, with an angry eyebrow on top of them. The mouth was thin-lined, but the triangular tongue passes down the head, extremely longer than any normal tongue. He did see Zim’s tongue as he talks –especially screams- every time, so there they are. The body was bent to a horizontal, triangular dress, with a colored blue to represent his hospital gown. His arms were sharply curved and faced downwards. They were twisted down with the supposed three-short lines as hands. The legs were reversely bent than human legs, with the feet also drawn to be three-thin lines. All in all, the skin was the same color as his skin. 

“ZIM does not look like that!” He squawked, his skin darkening (probably an alien type of their face reddening). He didn’t hear or see his continuous ranting because he was laughing like a mad man. That's almost compared to Gir’s maniacal ones. He never felt being this happy from someone screaming at him. His mind was comforted by it and the tiredness dissipated. He felt lighter. He really felt better. 

His laughter faints when Zim tried to shake him off, his claws tightly gripping his trench coat to shake him with red eyes filling with disbelief and anger. 

“How dare YOU small puny meat bag! For making ZIM a fool!” 

Dib slaps the alien’s hands away from him, still gleefully giggling through. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” He assures, stifling his laughter. 

Zim hissed viciously, “You’re stinky, ugly drawing sucks!” 

“You’re right,” He snickered. “This drawing does look stinky and ugly. But, I can’t make it any prettier.” 

It took seconds for the alien to realize that Dib’s implication of him being the one who’s being described than the drawing itself. An offending gasp escaped and an open mouth to complain. “Your drawing is not accurate!” 

“So is yours,” Dib countered. 

“Mine’s more accurate than you’ll ever be,” He boasted, almost the shoving the Dib-drawn paper to Dib’s face. “It has all your attributes!” 

Dib swatted the paper away, irritated. “Just as much as mine!” His hand clenched to the paper, showing it to the alien. 

Zim dramatically points his finger at the drawing. “Zim does NOT look like that! My legs are straight, not wavy.” 

“Well, I don’t think I can remember I have a purple make-up on my cheek either!” Dib retorted. 

Zim's face paused from his reply, the mouth was readily open to say something more but nothing came out as Dib said afterward. His eyes squinted in confusion as if Dib was stupid enough to not notice something he should've. 

That was when Zim quickly moved his eyes away from his own, looking at his face, at _something_. “What? What is it?” Dib's agitation to his question is weird. What was he missing? 

Zim replied, “You have a spot on your ugly filthy face. I drawed you just right.” 

He ignored the need to correct him right there, because when he looked sideward to where the glass wall is that Zim was right. At the glass reflection was Dib that has something on weird coloring on his face. There was a sore black spot on the left side of his cheek. He was about to ask himself out loud when he suddenly remembered Skool and a student. 

That specific student was a 6th grader, short, bulky, and such a jerk. He was the one who always pushes unpopular kids to the lockers, with teachers so dense they didn’t call his parents for behavioral problems. 

And this guy was the one he had a fight last Friday. 

Why didn’t he notice the punch got himself to a black spot? He was pretty sure he did not notice the black spot yesterday while brushing his teeth. Or was it? He was pretty sure he must’ve seen this, but was likely sleep deprived of the anxiety from his current paranormal assignments that he may not have bothered to check his health. Someone, besides him, could’ve seen this. 

However, it’s not like everyone around him would. Gaz is too busy on her games to even bother to see the problem. Dad is also busy doing science or whatever he does in the basement. Gir may have seen it, but was probably too stupid to care. 

And then there’s Zim, the last living being he ever wanted to tell of this, was the one who pointed out his situation. 

A part of him was glad that he told him about this. He could find some bandage and stick it up to prevent another beating from his Skoolmates because he looks ugly as it already is. 

Dib touched his black-spotted cheek, a small sting made him wince a bit. That student really knows how to pack a punch. Did he break his jaw? 

“Huh,” was all Dib let out, looking at his reflection, testing his broken cheek with his palm pressing to it. Beside from his vision was Zim huffing in satisfaction. “Yes, Huuhh. You have been wronged!” He laughed with pride, sitting straight with hands on his hips. 

“Once again, Zim has won this day again!” 

That got Dib to face Zim, immediately protesting, “No, I had the condition set. You can’t outplay on it.” This earned a groan of disagreement, but he seemed to agree on it at the same time as he listed out his wishes. 

“Fine! First order is for you to not question me for a week-“ 

“I said the wishes are for thirty minutes, Zim.” 

“Eh? What am I suppose to do with the wishes then?” Zim complained. 

Dib looked down in thought, massaging his chin. “You could try questioning me or tell me to leave for the whole thirty minutes.” 

“Hmm. Okay,” Zim plainly accepted. 

“My first and foremost wish is questioning your species for thirty questions!” 

“Why?” The boy’s face wrinkled in annoyance. Thirty questions can be answered within the amount of time, but the fact it’s that many can bore him. 

“For my documentation of humans.” Dib gave him a suspicious look, signing about their truce. Zim coughed back, “Of course, I could still conquer you all pesky humans. If I can get out of this hideous cell.” He muttered it at the end. 

“You do know thirty questions can waste the rest of your time, right?” 

“I know that,” Zim retorted. 

“Uh-huh,” Dib replied sarcastically, getting a grumble later on. 

“Fifteen,” Zim changed grudgingly, which Dib shrugged it off as an ‘okay’. 

“My second wish is no interrogation.” 

“But it’s not an interrogation-” 

“SILENCE. That is my wish and you will obey it.” 

Dib rolled his eyes. 

“My last wish is you to give Zim that weird noise.” 

“You mean music?” 

“Yes, yes. Whatever it is called. Give it to me this instance!” He held out his hand and Dib brought the phone to him. Zim mumbled some more “Yes” and played the playlist. It boomed a soft tone of the piano like he had played it last week. 

With that aside, Dib breathed, preparing the boredom as he accepted the challenge. 

The questioning went by smoothly. Zim just keeps asking, but he knew the limits while Dib answers truthfully. He asked about the people inside this facility and Dib just answered it the term of scientists since he doesn’t know what is their main purpose. Others involved the people who barraged his house must’ve been the same who run this underground lab and about his father. His answers were long since Zim barely knows about humans that much. Apart from that, there was one question that, conveniently, asked as the last one. 

“What is with your purple mark?” Zim had his finger gesture to his face. Dib recoiled at the question, covering the spot with his hand at the instinctive shame.

“It’s a bruise,” He quickly said, hoping Zim will shut the topic down. 

“That doesn’t explain everything,” Zim objected. 

“Yes, it does. The purple mark is a bruise. That’s your last question. Time for mine.” 

“The last one you did not explain it fully. Explain it, Dib-stink. NOW.” 

“Why do you want to know?” Dib cocked an eyebrow. 

Zim was quieted by the counter, later thinking as he averted his eyes from him. As was Dib. 

Why did he want to know? The questions and answers were fair. Dib described what it was and nothing more. He was pretty sure Zim knew of bruises since he has one. The fact Zim wants to know more of his bruise made him skeptical. But there was a small part of him, the childish one, felt compelled to tell him about it. Though, he won’t push it until Zim responds. 

And he did respond to it. “Well, because I want to know more of my acquaintance. After all, we’re in a truce.” 

“Acquaintance? You know you don’t need to know, right? 

“It’s an acquaintance thing, yes? Talking about stuff?” 

Dib sent him a look. “No, that’s not how it works.” 

Zim just gives in, grunting in frustration as he pouted afterward. Dib would’ve snickered at the antic, but he was focused on deciding on telling him. 

It won’t harm him, right? 

Right when Zim settled down comfortably for the ‘interrogation’, Dib spoke up, “This is from Skool.” He removed his hand to let Zim see if he wanted to, no use in hiding it. The alien perked up, antennae twitching (as a form of listening?), his face turned from annoyed to a dubious curiosity. Dib intertwined both of his hands to knead it from the nervousness, explaining, “There was a bully. He kinda punched me to the locker. That’s how I got the bruise.” His voice was timid and quiet, like a little kid being scolded (Well, he is a little kid-). He was glad Zim did not point out how nervous he was, rather he stared at him, either wanting more information or examining his bruise. 

It was when the music conveniently changed to another in his playlist, that played a sadder tone, beats that are slow, and the violin being superior from other instruments. 

“Bully?” Zim spoke. 

“It’s a student who harms other-” 

“I know what it means, Dib-idiot. What I meant is who is the bully?” 

“Uhm...” Dib now rubbed his hands harder, taken off guard. “Do you know who he is?” 

Zim paused for a moment until he nodded. “Zim has the sneaking suspicion that his name was Bry-yan.” 

“It’s Brian.” 

“Yes, that exact name.” 

“How do you know him?” 

Zim looked at him with a solemn look, a serious one to be exact. “Zim has encountered this Brian-human too.” 

“Wait, you’ve been at my skool? How did I not see you?” Dib asked with sudden realization. 

“Maybe because you’re much lower to what you call ‘grade level’.” Zim may have taken that as to insult him, but Dib took it like a logical human being he is. The skool is a small one, but a lot of children do enroll there since it’s the only town that has one skool. Every section of children has different classes at different times. He could’ve seen him at the cafeteria, though. Or not, since he was too busy either him or Zim being bullied or too busy doing something to ignore other children for avoiding conflict. Even staring at others is dangerous. 

“Besides, that insolent fool doesn’t know better.” 

“What did he do to you?” It wasn’t because he was concerned, but curious if there was any method Brian did try to every skoolmate. “He threw a ball at my squeedily spooch. That stupid human threw a ball on my squeedily spooch!” The alien repeated as he grew louder. Dib had an idea to bring earplugs next time because his screaming is deafening his eardrums. 

“Your what?” 

“Squeedily spooch,” Zim says as if it was obvious. Dib now looked up at him, eager to listen to the description, while Zim was scrunching in suspicion. “What is it?” 

Zim elucidated quite frankly, “It’s our only organ, along with the brain, that is our body’s weakness. It functions basically your human complex body system does.” 

“Wow,” Dib said, astonished that one organ can function as the whole system of humans. Zim cackled, “Another point for the Irken and no point for humans. You really are fragile species!” Dib gave him an uninterested look, tired of how many insults he keeps telling his own people and himself. 

They ended their bully conversation rather quickly ever since they both felt uncomfortable doing the ‘heart-to-heart' talk. And for the whole time hanging out with Zim was mostly banter and arguments, but there were spaces for Dib’s questions. Gir stayed in the background, doing something Dib didn’t bother to check. All that he knows is that Gir is there and did not wander around. 

Gladly, their truce time ended with a good note. Dib was not sleep deprived and Zim willingly gave his phone back. Gir was obedient and cleaned the mess as fast as possible without the rush since the three of them are helping each other out. Dib gave an accidental goodbye and walked out, leaving Zim grumbling nonsense. 

The bad one was that Dib will have to do the homework that he forgot to do, again.


	10. Chapter 10 - Hey Dad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A heart to heart talk... eh, well not exactly.

Dib got back home safely. The late-night of 1 AM had the whole street mostly desolate of the number of people wandering outside. There were only known hobos and teenagers illegally wanting to do something or don’t like to sleep early. So, the walk back was quiet and kind of peaceful. The sky was devoid of color but just with a truly dark space and bright glowing pinpricks of stars. A half-moon that lightened up their planet for little light, not too bright unlike the big hot ball of the sun. 

The boy breathed in and out, savoring the peace and tranquil outside. He noted that Gir had no plans of waking up since he fell asleep inside his bag quite fast, must’ve been tired of doing… or playing something. 

The hard part of going back was to climb a tree and reaching the branch where the window to his room was. 

But he didn’t have to do that since Gaz waited at the front door, who has her eyes focused on her Game Slave. 

“Gaz?” Dib called, tightening the straps of his backpack. Gaz seemed to pause the game as he heard the noises no more but crickets cricketing. She, as usual, glared at him. But the response wasn’t what he expected. “You better listen here Dib or you’re a dead kid,” Gaz threatened, which Dib shrunk from her gaze alone. 

“Why? What did I do?” He asked meekly, scared to even ask. 

Gaz glared at him in silence for a few uncomfortable seconds until her eyes went back at her game. But it seemed like she wasn’t playing seeing that he can’t hear anything. “Dad’s waiting for you.” 

His blood ran cold. 

“W-what?” He stuttered. 

_It shouldn’t be_ _. I thought he was_ _gonna_ _go to the airport yesterday. He even said so. Why is he, at a time like this, here?_

“I won’t repeat myself, Dib. Now listen here.” Gaz closed her distance to him, which made Dib backpedaled a little since he always thinks Gaz had something under her sleeves. “I told dad you were hanging out with someone named Luke in the middle of the night because you’re ghost hunting. This could go in two ways: He can easily see you stuttering or he’ll ignore it. One way or another, you’re going to be scolded. For the reason of what you pulled at the lab that first time. Understood?” 

Dib nodded frantically, not wanting at the end of her wrath. “So, you’re not going to kill me?” 

“I would want to, I really do. But dad wants to talk to you. We’ll list all punishments tomorrow morning,” Gaz said menacingly. She turned around and stepped back to the front door, opening it. “Wait,” Dib’s call had Gaz halt and her enclosed eyes locked to Dib. He inhaled, hoping that his sister would try and understand. He shrugged off the backpack from his shoulders and held out to Gaz with a little strength to lift up due to Gir’s robotic weight. “Can you take this in my room? Gir’s in here and I don’t want him interrupting or dad knowing,” Dib requested, and Gaz paused before snatching the bag with ease and walked away. 

Dib bit his lip as she opened the front door and probably went to her room as he heard a loud slam. He just stood there, instead of thinking what the punishments were, it was dad’s upcoming conversation he feared the most. 

He gulped in anxiety, his lungs not accepting the air he tried to breathe for. He stared at the front door, where his father would be waiting for him. About his paranormal. About his ambition. About the alien. That would go all away, like a speck of dust. He deeply inhaled, mustering his courage to face his father from the consequences. 

He stepped further to the door, every bit of his footstep with thoughts scrambling for something to say. 

He slowly twisted the doorknob and peaked from the gap. There he was, right in front of their living room, sitting at the dining chair, was Professor Membrane tapping his black lab boot and his arms were crossed. And he was looking straight at _him_. 

Dib’s breath was now hitched, mouth agape. He shamefully opened the door, revealing himself to his father, who was still staring with his thick-rimmed goggles. He desperately wanted to just go upstairs and do his homework, but the ‘parent stare’ meant directly at him meant trouble. 

“Son,” His dad spoke quite passive-aggressively, or maybe he was just tired as much as he was. Dib felt like he wanted to bury his head to the dirt like an ostrich to sand. He wanted to curl up and comfort himself to sleep. Because he really felt exposed under dad’s gaze. 

“Come on, sit down with me,” He encouraged. Dib nodded along, fiddling with his hands. He walked with steadfast steps, wanting to get this over with but also scared of what will he say next. Sitting down, he stayed quiet until dad says a word. 

Dib lowered his head, meekly eyeing him with a blank expression. He wanted to cover up his regret and guilt, just so he could lie to his father. 

“What have you been doing, son?” Dad asked very calmly, but he knows it was to suppress something. 

“I’ve been hunting ghost hunting with Luke, nothing really happened,” Dib answered it with an obvious tone, remembering Gaz’s formulated lie. Dad is still, staring at him with an unreadable expression. He doesn’t know what he was thinking, but the furrowed eyebrows meant he was skeptical. “Luke? You had a friend?” 

Dib acted by shrugging it off, telling him, “Yeah, he knew paranormal stuff just as I do.” 

“And your friend hasn’t been telling you that it was in the middle of the night?” 

“I thought you were going to Russia?” 

“That doesn’t mean you and your friend get to run around outside looking for nothing.” 

Dib discreetly clenched his hand while the other massages it, unable to look dad in the eye anymore. His face morphed into an angry one. “It’s not for nothing. It was for paranormal research,” He gritted. 

“Dib,” His father sighed heavily, either it was from tiredness or disappointment, Dib may assume on the latter. “Why did you go into IGE?” 

Dib did not stop messing with his hands, instead he got more focused on them. He knew one way or another he would be caught in the act. Trying to avoid his dad’s stare, he spoke up, “I was exploring, dad. You didn’t tell me all along you had-” 

“That is why I never told you, son,” Dad said, his calm tone fading and growing into a stricter one. 

“I was curious, dad. I’m a kid, after all,” Dib raised his voice up, troubled his father’s voice is more superior than his. 

“That doesn’t excuse to just go into an underground lab and vulnerably get yourself almost into trouble.” 

“I was not vulnerable,” Dib replied, now fisting his hands hard. “I was fine on my own.” 

“And you disobeyed me.” 

“I did not!” Dib was fed up, feeling his voice crack to a pitch like Zim’s. “I was just a curious kid trying to explore his father’s ‘secrets’ that he never told his soon-to-be-future-Membrane.” He almost mocked him, but he knew when not to push it. He finally looked back at his father, who had his brows slanted thoroughly. It meant he was angry. 

“Dib-” 

“No!” Dib slammed his clenched fists to the table, standing up at with his chair using as his stool. “Why do you have an alien inside your lab?” 

That was when dad became quiet, his features seem to soften and to harden back and forth. He seemed to be doubting. Or was it something else. 

“I never meant for you to know, Dib,” He said apologetically, yet the hardened look begs to differ. 

The boy laughed dryly, “I’ve known, hunt, document aliens and unusual lifeforms since I was born, dad. And you hid it all away for what? For helping the people?” Dib felt like bursting up. All this time, his father was hiding aliens –part of his ambition- and all the time he said he never believed in one. For all the times he was accused, shamed, and called him crazy because he believed in such things, he was actually true about everything.

“Son, it is none of your business.” Dad used the stern voice again, which made Dib mad. “Alien IS part of my business!” He yelled. 

He glances at dad’s hands as they were shaking. “There are some things you will not have to know.” 

“Like what? Like you’ve never mentioned mom?!” 

It looked like Dib struck a nerve. 

Dad’s face was shocked, frozen from his place, while Dib felt every body part weighted with an anvil. They both are still, one may have been processing what he said and the other regretting the words spilled onto his mouth. Dib wanted to say sorry, to say that it was just a mistake, to say it was an accident. 

But it wasn’t, was it? 

“Dib,” Dad’s voice became gravelly low and somehow as scary as Gaz. Dib shrunk again from another voice that felt more controlling than he was, his legs trembling. “Will you swear to me and to yourself that you will never go back into that lab?” 

The boy’s face was firm, yet doubtful. He doesn’t want to. He wants to disobey his orders because he knew the truth. The truth about a lie. The lies he kept spewing to his whole childhood then realizing this man had studied paranormal just as he did, but he didn't bother to tell his own son because it's just a _child fantasy._ Thus, his indignant look sent to his father. He knew he knows, because he suddenly stands up, scaring Dib as the table shook. 

Membrane walked up to Dib, all the while the son leaned back, the instinct of backpedaling that he’s gonna be smacked across the room. 

Rather, he kneeled down to Dib’s height and its chair. Their sight is now leveled to each other. Dib stared neutrally at his father’s opaque glasses, looking weary. Then, dad put his hand on his shoulder and gently gripped at it that felt like he was about to be scolded. “Son, what you did was once and only once. It’s a final. Swear it.” His father pleaded with authority, letting his _son_ know that he tries to be a better father by scolding him. 

_But he isn’t_ Dib bitterly thought. 

In spite of that, he nodded with a blank expression.

Professor Membrane sighed in either disappointment or relief, Dib didn’t care to know. He stood up and ruffled his son’s hair. “Go to your room now, Dib. Don’t stay up late.” Even though he said it politely, there was a tinge of hate and exhaustion on it. That made Dib's anger rise, as if he instantly forgot what he had told him seconds ago about the promise. 

_So, it was true, huh? You do hate me._ _You’re tired of me._ _Why do you even want me here?_

Dib gave him a curt nod and before he could jump down, he asked this carefully, “Are you still going to Russia?” 

There was a pregnant pause, with Dib not looking back at Membrane and said father affirmed it with a hum of agreement. “I’m needed there, son. I will have to.” 

_What about me and_ _Gaz_ _?_

The boy huffed in repressed hatred, more like it was a sarcastic laugh but he didn’t try noticing that. He jumped off the chair and stomped up to his room, bringing it to a slam that was much louder than Gaz’s slam. 

He never bothered to care for his father’s small goodnight at the time. He never bothered to care that his sister was spying behind her door, peeping out from the gap. He never bothered the welled-up liquid on his eyes. He wanted to go for his room to get privacy and that’s it. 

Dib slumped down on his door, feeling the exhaustion once again setting on Dib’s system. He threw the glasses somewhere and don’t care if it was broken or fine. He was mad, scared, anxious, and relieved. He propped his arms to his legs and his head bowed underneath the arms. Then, the burning liquid was starting to swell from his eyes and he poured them all out. He tried to stop making sounds while crying but his subconscious thinks otherwise. He had a hard time breathing properly as he sniffles and snots on the arms. His anguish cry kept going for minutes, or maybe hours, Dib doesn’t know or care. The point is that his dad most likely hates him and just uses him for a part of Membrane Legacy that will never happen. 

Awhile in the middle of crying, there were some cold metal arms trying to wrap them around Dib but failed since the arms were short. So, the owner of the arms petted Dib on the head, saying unintelligible words that may correspond to soothing words that use for babies. Dib didn’t reject nor accept, he let Gir do his own way of comforting him and leaving Dib to cry himself to sleep.

* * *

“Hey, Dib-worm!” 

Dib jolted from his small nap, rubbing his eyes from the blur. Adjusting his glasses to his favorable position, he looked to Zim voiced from. 

Zim was sitting around the papers of sketched symbols and wrappers of chocolate bars. Crayons weren’t scattered as it supposed to be, most of it was stacked at the box while Zim holds a few. The phone was still booming the soft relaxing music, laying beside the alien. And there was Gir also playing with the crumpled papers, or particularly eating it. 

Dib yawned, raising an eyebrow at him. “Have you done the symbol yet?” 

Zim snatched the paper from the floor and showed it to him, “Yes! And Zim has perfected it,” Zim said proudly. The boy groggily stood, walking forward to take the sketch. It was better than the one he had drawn earlier. The lines were more refined and not wavy. The drawing looked like a symbol for cults. Or alien-type. 

“What do you guys call this?” Dib asks. 

“That! Is our Irken Symbol for the empire,” Zim simply answered with loud enthusiasm. Dib hummed in thought. Since he questioned a lot about the empire, he can understand the basics of how they work. They have two Tallest, which the tallest Irken are to be commanded to be their leaders. They are mostly invaders, some work differently like medical staff and food drones. Their PAKs were artificially created to be their personality, memory storage, and organic skills by the Control Brains. Though, what baffled him was the body being just a shell for the PAKs to be carried of. Or how they reproduce. Zim told him that they were just bio-engineered. Biologically modified. 

“So, is there any purpose for this symbol besides identifying your race?” 

“Well, when we own a planet, us invaders do signify it as our property by marking it with the Irken symbol.” 

“Would you still do that, though?” 

“Hah! Silly Dib, you think I would stop trying to rule your pathetic planet? You disgust me!” Zim made a disgusted face after. 

“Man, I thought that would work,” mumbled Dib, shrugging the thought of it. He had a small hope that for the past couple of weeks of their truce would try and convince Zim to see that humans are all not that bad. That maybe Dib would prove their species wrong from them not having emotions as much as them. Unfortunately, he knew the fact that they are brainwashed by their alien type of God to be _just_ invaders. 

Zim must’ve heard him mutter under his breath as he tilted his head a bit in acknowledgment. Dib waved him off, telling him it was nothing and added a half-assed excuse. He looked unconvinced, but went back with drawing something Dib was sure it’s not related to anything but his own imagination. 

The boy sat back down, this time near the alien, observing the pieces of his artworks. He picked up the drawings that came from his imagination. He drew some sort of small ball on the top and a planet –that looked similar to Earth with the colors green and blue- on the bottom. The pink ball seemed to glow into a red color surrounding it, then connecting the red aura to surround the planet. And there are also writings of “HAHA!” a lot from the sides, all sprinkled around the drawing. “Is this some sort of world domination plan?” 

The alien seemed to notice him just now from the way he jerked up to check what he was doing. He snatched the paper and hissed like a snake, his tongue peeked out and slithered. Dib went stiff and had his palms faced towards Zim, a gesture of "No fight. Just saying". The said alien glared at him for a few seconds before telling, “This is allegedly my plan to get your filthy planet to the Irken Armada.” 

Interested at the new term, he asked him. Reluctantly, Zim answered with a small pride, “It’s our main Irken ship where other ships are to be followed for its protection and, well, invading. AND! That is where our Almighty Tallest live in! They are the one who controls the ship and enjoy the suffering of those poor, pitiful planets.” Dib was not keen on them invading some of those planets that may have been peaceful, but he didn’t dig deep into that. He was not in the mood to tackle about it. And as Zim kept bragging about the planets the Armada eradicated and marked, Dib listened with great interest. Gir joined the conversation for the duration of the chat, adding crazed stories about the other species craving waffles and rolling over pizzas. Zim tried to pull the robot away from making unnecessary intervals to his bragging, but it was futile as Gir kept coming back. 

That was when Dib twitched a smile. Then, he chuckled at the scene but stopped himself from laughing further, his awkward self emerging. 

Zim, annoyed at Gir’s interruptions, gave up the topic and ordered the bot to go back to his playing ground. He went back to drawing, seemingly enthralled by what he’s drawing of. 

For a while, Dib began to yawn. His headache was throbbing. He was about to go back to the glass wall when Zim spoke up, “Why are you here?” 

“Huh?” Dib turned his attention to him now, confused. Zim was looking at him with an angered puzzling expression, as if he was trying to piece out Dib. He felt bare from Zim’s observant gaze, deflecting it with a questioning glare.

“I do recall meeting Zim every week. But why does it seem like you just met me yesterday?” 

Dib was perplexed. “How did you know what time it is?” 

“From your device,” Zim blatantly said, grabbing the phone.

“And how do you know what day is it exactly?” 

“Silly human, I’ve gone to your dumb Skool and have been living with the rest of your kind for three months before these scientists attacked my base!” 

“Oh.” 

“Now cease talking about this and tell me the reason. NOW.” 

Dib huffed indignantly, crossing his arms and turning his head away. “Why would you want to know?” 

“Zim questions you and you will answer. I’ve already answered yours! I want mine next.” 

“It’s-” Dib hesitated, doubtful if it was really that much big of a deal. “It’s private, Zim. I can’t just tell a random alien my privacy,” He saw his antennae twitched at the statement, which made Dib wonder if Zim felt hurt about calling him ‘random’. 

Zim just puffed it off, now minding his own business. Dib guessed he has some sort of respect. With an ego like that, he doesn't think him having respect would be possible. So, Dib continued going to the glass wall, leaning and letting his eyes close for a bit. His mind was shutting down and he doesn’t want that to happen right here. He could’ve just walked back home and slept there. But the feeling of going back despite dad not there, he wanted someplace he could not think of betrayal. If truth to be told, he felt like he’s more reposed at the glass wall rather than slumping at the door. 

And looking at Zim, he seemed fine for him to take a small nap. He’d accidentally done it two times and Zim did not make any attempts of escaping. He was just... here. He doesn’t why he’s still staying and did not hold him hostage. He could be stupid by not finding that out. Or just something else he was missing. Whatever the case, at least he knew Zim won’t betray him. 

Right? 

Dib had a tinge of hope that he’ll change. 

“Dib-stink?” 

Dib “hmm” in question, all the while he had his eyes close, just for them to rest. He heard crumpling of a paper and- 

Something softly hit him in the head. It didn’t bother him until several balls of papers have been thrown at him, widening his eyes to see who hit him, even though he knew who it was. 

“You could’ve gotten me paper cuts if you hit me even harder,” Dib stared at him, irritated. Zim cackles as his reply, “Then maybe I should!” 

Sighing in despondence, he asked, “What do you want?” 

“Nothing! Zim wants nothing. Eh-yet.” 

“Um, ok-” 

“However, I must give you these methods on how you can overpower the Bry-yan.” He threw another crumpled ball of a paper and Dib caught it before it could hit him. He uncrumpled it and saw what he was talking about. It’s some kind of scheme that has incredibly bad drawn procedures and stick figures. He raised his head up to Zim and also raised his brow, “This is for Brian?” 

“Yes, for his doom,” said an overzealous Zim, with a mischievous grin and a fist upraised. Dib mused with the idea set here. It can work since he can do almost anything. He’ll just borrow stuff from the garage and make some of these. Then, he can have his justice. “I’m surprised you haven’t tried to make this destructive.” 

Zim scoffed, “I wanted to make him suffer, not kill him with what you call mercifulness. That would be a weak counter for this unfair bullying that he had put on Zim.” 

Dib looked at it more, gears in motion as he thinks of all the things he could do with the stuff Zim can give him. Dib smiled back at Zim, “This can actually help. Thanks,” He trailed off, not wanting to sound too sincere. 

“Why though?” Dib asked after he felt the uneasiness from the “thanks” he just said. 

Zim shrugged it off nonchalantly, “I want what’s worse for the Bry-yan. And those are the ones I came up with.” 

“You sure there’s not anything else?” Dib can’t help but tease him. Maybe it was just the way they were used to bantering that teasing and sarcastic remarks are normal. Or maybe he wanted to know if there was something else he was keeping secret. 

Zim narrowed his eyes at him, giving a gestured warning of “don’t push it”. Dib nodded with a small smirk, meant that he won’t make any promises. But Zim did not know that. Hopefully, the smirk can help him understand he won’t stop trying to tease him from being nice. 

Then, Zim told him it was time to go. “Go with your stupid device and writing color thingies. You’ll have to prepare your scheme tomorrow and THEN, you will get my vengeance, Dib-beast.” He fisted his hand and shakenly gripped, smiling very maliciously as always. 

“Wait, isn’t this suppose to be my vengeance?” 

“Pfft, that is why I’ve given you that plan in the first place. Since I, Zim, am immobilized by your support system and those scientists,” Zim scorned, growling lowly at the last part to emphasize how he hates those people. 

“Now begone! And avenge Zim, Dib-beast. Vengeance is nigh,” Zim told him with an aggressive passionate dramatic. Dib shakes his head at that. 

“I will,” He agrees on anyways. Besides, he can also get the benefits. 

“You better!” Zim yelled. 

Dib thanked him again, which made it uncomfortable, but he was about to leave anyway so why bother. 

And just when everything was scoured in the room, Dib thought about the reason why he was here. It’s either a bad timing or a good one since he’s about to go home. But he can’t remove it when Zim just asked what bothered him. He doesn’t know what motive the alien might’ve been trying to do, that’s why he doesn’t trust him. But, ever since the truce and the activities started to rain, Dib may or may not feel bad about not answering his question. 

Sure, the truce did only pertain to foods and questions on his species, and conditions about no hurting each other physically. But at the time they began more like hanging out rather than interrogating and food prizes, it just made Dib doubt if he can truly trust Zim.

The unfeeling close-minded alien from a race of invaders. That’s Zim, isn’t it? 

“GIR!” The shout snapped Dib from zoning out more. He spotted Gir was about to get to the machine, which it was Zim’s substitute for a PAK. Before Zim could shout some orders, Dib had his hand not too close to the alien’s mouth, to prevent Zim from speaking very loud just to order Gir around. 

“Maybe try a little softer. It’ll cause an alarm at some point.” That was just Dib’s attentiveness and paranoia coming back to daydream about being caught by Zim’s extremely loud voice. But it was true though. 

Zim sent him a look, obviously not desiring to do the request. Somehow, he begrudgingly commanded Gir softly (More like softly loud. He still sounded like he was screeching but he thought that it may just his supposed voice.) to move away from the machine. Next was telling Gir to vacuum the mess while Dib gets to collect the valuable things, like the crayons and phone. Zim just sat and boastfully orders him and Gir for the leftovers needed to get rid of. Dib gave him a look of exasperation and had a small banter before Zim was forced on agreeing on helping them. 

For the next hour, Dib prepped everything for his departure. Gir was readily inside the bag but he was fumbling in it, that Dib will have to calm him down with another emergency toy. That aside, Dib left the bag open if Gir wants to go outside, and walked to Zim. 

Zim took notice of the boy settling down the floor in front of him, displaying a skeptical look. Dib deeply inhaled, uttered out the words he wants to say, “The reason I came here early is because I’m-” Biting his lip, he continued, “My dad knows about our first encounter and we talked about it. I had a little fight. I just want to go away from home for a while.” 

The alien squints in suspicion. As to why he suddenly chose to tell him. Why not Gaz? She’s the closest he’s got. If he did, though, he doesn’t know if she’ll acknowledge at all, since she plays games all the time that she doesn’t bother to notice the reality. 

He snapped back when Zim hummed, “So, you’re saying you’re acting schmoopy and you want Zim to coddle you?” 

Dib’s face fell flushed, painted in disdain and incredulity. “What? No! I did not mean for you to coddle me?” 

“Then what am I expected to do?” Zim argued. 

“I thought that you’ll just have to listen.” 

“And say nothing? That’s stupid.” 

He opened his mouth to tell him that you don’t need to reply, but what would be the purpose of telling him about his reason if he doesn’t know how to be a listener. 

_Of course, how could I be so stupid?_ Dib thought. Zim is an Irken, a part of the people who don’t have experience in emotions or others having one. He wouldn’t know what to say or do. Why did he expect that Zim will have some advice about how to cope with it? Zim was right. This is stupid. 

The human glared at him with distrust, thinking that his decision was wrong. He knew it wasn’t Zim’s fault as to why he can’t understand feelings, but he’s a little stressed right now, his childish tantrum leaking. “It’s fine,” He said with a fixed smile. “I have to go. See you next week.” 

And when he turned, his smile disappeared and turned into a frown. He picked up the bag and slung to his shoulders and closed the cell. He spared a glance at Zim, who was staring at him with an unreadable expression. When he did notice him staring, his face scrunched and scowled. He paid no more attention and took the drive out, giving Gir a moment of goodbye to his master before crawling back to the vents. 

* * *

Professor Membrane sat down his office chair, sighing heavily with his hand resting on his forehead. He shut his eyes, musing his argument between his child. 

The pressure of taking care of his children from his plans is hard. He thought this was meant to be easy. Just avoid and deflect their questions from their mother with convincing stories of her hobbies and experiences along with him. Then, trying his best to get Dib from quitting the paranormal dream. Lastly, preventing Dib from knowing the IGE. 

As a result, he pushed his children away. Gaz wasn’t any difference, but he’s sure she only comes for him for the family treats like Bloaty’s. He never bothered to know her interest since she closed herself all the time. He can only give the tasks that she will do from her admiration. 

And Dib? The boy has always admired him all the time, bragging his classmates how he was able to make world peace and salvation. How his father is worldwide, making the world a better place. He always idolized his father. That came with a consequence when Dib starts having research on the paranormal. He would show him about ghouls and bigfoot that some may not even make sense. Membrane tried his hardest to not be unsupportive but subtly quit on that professionality. 

It pained him to see his son anticipating his father to believe what he was saying. To what he was doing because he loved to do it. To what he’s so dedicated to solving mysteries despite the public calling him crazy. 

It hurt even more that Dib had the same beliefs as his mother, and the same intense passion as his father. 

The man groaned in frustration, now massaging his temples in an attempt of comforting his massive headache. 

Now, Dib doesn’t see the same father he adored before. 

He was just a man of science. 

And Membrane hated it to be this way. 

“I’m sorry, son. I’m sorry, Reen,” He mumbled. 


	11. Chapter 11 - I Hate You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Through the duration of three months of Dib hanging out with Zim, it's time to stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, the "months later" sucks, and I'm sorry you had to not see the times Dib and Zim being feral little idiots to each other. This is the reason I had to make like a couple of chapters of the pair doing fluff before this can happen.
> 
> I don't know if this will be to your liking, but enjoy!
> 
> Oh, and btw TW technically Blood.

It was a miracle their truce got this far. 

For the past three months of undetected Dib sneaking into a forbidden underground lab to hang out with an alien, things were going fine for the both of them. Though the tests were not increasing nor decreasing, Zim still had the same injuries that Dib has a newfound hobby to heal him up if his life is in danger. Gir was more energetic and annoying that Zim, Dib, and Gaz didn’t mind questioning him anymore. 

After Gaz had given him the punishments needed to be finished, she was occasionally asking how was his day with Zim and immediately changing the subject or ignoring him after his short explanation. There were at times Gaz invites Gir to her bedroom whenever he or she wants to, but at the expense of helping her something vengeful. 

His dad was still oblivious about his late night activities. He doesn’t go home that much and lately having more meetings and projects that he needs to work on. However, he tries to make up some time for his children with going to Bloaty’s or road trips that it postpones Dib’s time with Zim. He hasn’t noticed Gir yet, which Dib was surprised by it since the robot is the loudest in the house. 

Dib acted like everything was fine when his father is around, but there’s a definite tension that keeps lingering between them. They both knew and disregarded it, sometimes dad starting the conversation off with other topics that did not have about their argument. It was getting to the point of being unhealthy that Gaz to call it out for Dib, but didn’t tell dad. They never fixed it. Dib is being secretive, and dad is a coward for not having a serious conversation about that argument. 

On a lighter note, Zim got along with Dib overtime. There were times that Dib forgets to question the Irken and just uses their session by playing challenges to make their truce interesting. Sometimes, Dib takes his homework for Zim to challenge without the computer doing it for him, which often results in a squabble. Sometimes, Dib lets him hear other songs for a new taste in case if he gets obsessed with just one known song. He was glad it worked when Zim asks him to change the music to another. He tried making him eat other foods than any sugary produced, but he didn’t really like the meat that much. He tolerated it if Dib keeps persuading him to do so. And oftentimes, Dib stays with Zim and Gir for almost every night of the week since his dad goes out every time there was a meeting around. It was a wonder how the scientist or Winslow haven’t spotted a kid sneaking past their security for months, but Dib guessed they were incompetent and possibly just lazy. 

Some might think this was a friend thing to do, but Dib and Zim would answer it with being acquaintances. An alliance that someday they would try and betray each other for their own separate honor. One for finding the people’s approval to believe him and the other impressing his leaders. 

And then there was one day that Dib told Zim about his father. 

The boy ate off the sandwich he just made for his late midnight snack, all the while he kept talking, “My dad hasn’t been the most of our childhood, pretty much all he does is help people but not his children.” He munched one more, “Erz a shame he trulee shucks.” 

He saw Zim’s eye twitch from annoyance, antennae doing the same. “Swallow your foodening before you speak, Dib-filth. You sound disgusting,” Zim pointed. 

Dib almost choked after he largely swallowed it, realizing it wasn’t churned yet. Covering the embarrassment, he resumed his story, “Then, he decided to talk to me about our fake hang-out.” 

“Fake hang-out?” 

“Oh, you know. The excuse about me and Luke. Dad said if it does make me happy, then I can stay up at night,” Dib huffed in disdain, “He even hugged me as his form of apology. I can’t forgive him yet, about all of this.” He gestured the whole room. 

However, Zim looked weirdly serious that brought Dib’s attention. 

“What?” 

“Did your male parental unit knew about the scar thingy?” 

“Huh? You mean the gash you gave me?” Dib pulled out his trench coat and tugged the shirt out to examine the medicated gash. It wasn’t bleeding red to the strips yet, but the ribs are still sore. 

He glanced at Zim, who was also looking at his wound. “Yes, that one.” 

“Well,” Dib removed his finger from tugging and put back his coat. “He doesn’t know. He did hurt the ribs, though I think that wasn’t intentional.” He gently pressed his palm on his chest, feeling the slight wince of the bruise. When his father hugged him at that time, Dib quickly pushed him away from the instinct of something stinging at his chest. The man may have been suspicious about it, but it may be a worrying callback to the time Dib closed him off three months ago. 

“Excellent,” Zim muttered with malice that Dib clearly heard. Frowning, he spoke, “What?” 

Zim turned his head to him, forcing a smile, “Oh nothing! Just nonsense stuff.” 

Dib sent him a look, “Tell me.” 

“Why would you want to know?” 

“I WANA KNOW!” cried Gir from behind, rolling Zim’s side. The bot stared at his master with joy, giggling, “I wana know too!” 

Dib crossed his arms with a smug smile, “It’s two against one.” 

“What, NO! GIR! How dare you go along with this hideous Dib-smelly!” Zim sputtered. Gir just gave him a silly grin, robotic tongue sticking out. “Does that mean I get to knooow?” He insisted with a playful teasing tone. 

Dib tutted at the smug satisfaction, “Gir counts in the room, Zim. Fair is fair. Tell us.” He sardonically smiled after Zim groaned at the loss. 

“Fine! Your parental unit threatened me, the Mighty Zim, from a small stoopid wound to your stoopid human body!” As Zim cackled he statement off, it was Dib’s smile fell to an ‘oh’. “Did... Dad mean that?” Dib quietly asked, a little desperate for an answer.

Zim waved him away, “Obviously, smelly-worm. He even put his robotic arm on my face. That was UNACCEPTABLE!” He screeched, but then Dib covered his mouth. Zim glared and slapped his hand away. 

“Get off, filth!” 

“You were screaming.” 

“You speak lies. I was merely expressing my utmost hatred upon that interrogation day,” He defended. 

“Yeah, no. That was screaming.” 

“LIES!” 

“Okay, I’ll shut up,” He dismissed, hands showing of surrender. The alien huffed indignantly and opened the chips like normal. No ripping it to shreds or stomping against the floor. Dib brushed him aside and drifted into the words he said. 

Does that dad care? Did he really threaten Zim just for his safety? 

_Well, he did a good job at that, didn’t he? He barely noticed that wound._ His other thought reminded sarcastically _._ And that’s true, unfortunately. If he did frighten Zim, it might be because he might hurt his ‘precious legacy’ on Science. That he will nowhere to give it to until his time of living runs out. Gaz is incapable of any majors of Science, only Dib can. But Dib wished more than that, but he won’t ever get it. If only he can just kill hi- 

“Dib-worm, where’s your phone? I need it immediately as your future slave master!” Zim exclaimed, ironically with his mouth full. But it did not jog his vocabulary so Dib understood just well and gave him the device. He didn’t mind the quirks Zim’s been giving himself to entitle himself, it has been happening for a long time and Dib knew this was just to boast his overconfident ego more. 

The genre chosen for Zim’s playlist is Pop Rock, playing “High Hopes”. Dib was grateful that he instructed him on how to use volumes. 

Zim seemed like he’s bobbing up and down from the music, having used to Dib’s actions when he listens to the beats of the song. He does this while eating and drawing Irken stuff. Gir borrowed the piece of paper from Zim also started drawing beside him, but it looked like it was just squiggly lines. 

Shaking his head from thinking about dad, he resumed eating the sandwich during a moment of pleasant silence.

* * *

Dib slammed down the tray of Skool food at the table where Gaz resides, who took a glance at him with a twitch of an eye. He sat with a peal of obnoxious stifling laughter, eyeing around him for any of Brian. 

“What’s gotten you so cheery?” Gaz uninterestedly asked, her gaze back to the console. Dib shushed her, pointing the doorway to the halls. He looked very ecstatic today. Gaz figured that he met Zim again that night.

“Just wait and you’ll see,” He titters.

Gaz noted that he did not gobble down the mushy food but clutched it to his spoon, as if he was faking it and waiting for something. Her ears suddenly heard the loud wail from the halls, and Gaz realized too late when her game character loses. She growled from the disruption and planning to walk to where the kid who killed her game.

There at the doorway, the one who created a disaster for her game was Brian, known as Dib’s bully. His hair was all spiked abnormally and grey smoke coming from it, His outfit was splashed with pink paint and glitters, sparkling a kiddy mood. However, his face had it on the other side. He was seething through grinding teeth, his face was growing red from either embarrassment or anger.

His appearance had the whole cafeteria roar with laughter.

Gaz gave Dib a questioning gaze, seeing that she was the only one who wasn’t laughing and had an impassive expression. Dib restrains his laughter, letting himself to breathe. “Put something in the bathroom. Did not regret it,” He started snickering to laughing, joining the rest of the students. Gaz gave an eye roll at the mindlessness of the whole room, and got back to playing. Brian shouting and kicking one of the bullied to the trash can and being punished by Ms. Bitters later on. The students began fading their laughter into sniggers and gossips, going back into place after Brian was pulled out of the cafeteria.

She looked briefly at Dib, who was already devouring his food. She stayed mute for her to focus on the game, until she had won the next levels.

“Paint and glitters, really?” Gaz commented, still keeping up with the controls of her character. She saw Dib pause from eating and eyed towards his sister. A few seconds later for Dib to understand the remark, he replied with a small smirk, “What? Zim’s ideas were too recognizable to see that I did it. I’m the only one who does tech right. So, combining his idea to a more innocent one, Tada!” He stretched his arm to the door with a proud smile, where Brian once stood.

“Well, your idea is dumb. Could’ve gone with red and spiders to make it more effective.”

“Did you try and do that to someone?”

“... Maybe,” The vague answer left Dib on edge, not wanting to know more. His sister is born scary, so he shut himself up before asking what happened.

Gaz remained herself on the game, but itching on asking again, “You’re gonna meet Zim tonight?” It wasn’t a mystery to her that he, Zim, and Gir have been hanging out behind his father’s back. Other times, he had been staying late for to meet up with the alien regardless of the day being their school night. She had known that ever since he told him not to reveal Gir to dad. She wanted to get him in trouble for being caught at the time of the “Take your kid to work” day when Gaz warned him not to snoop around. But her feelings got the best of her and let Dib go on without a hitch. In addition, she could have Gir do the dirty work of vengeance from the opponents that’s bringing her down.

Dib nodded with delight, completing his meal right away. “Yep. I’ve got lots of challenges for him to work on. We set another deal and whoever wins gets what they want and the losers get nothing. Except for the escape, as usual, but this time I'm going to win, for sure. And if I do win, I get to steal his whole dessert of candies and bars, and he’ll have to deal with it.” He rubbed his palms, showing a naughty look. Gaz deadpans and shrugs him off.

If Dib is fine having Zim around, then maybe this whole shebang of unhealthy tensions wouldn’t be that bad.

* * *

Dib trails his steps eagerly as he kept crawling from this narrowed tight space of the vents, with Gir bumping and cheering inside the bag. “WOHOO, MASTAH TIME!”

“You have to be quiet, Gir. We aren’t close yet,” Dib hushed, patting the bag mildly to get Gir’s attention. Said robot made small giggles until he turned instantly silent. Dib breathed out in relief and carried on crawling.

He knew quite the layout of the vents, but it was only short. There have been more vent openings that Dib didn’t get to explore since guards and scientists were roaming around the area. At least he knew the way to get to Zim easily like the back of his hand. After all, he had been doing this for months.

Thus, he finally got to the direction to where Zim’s room vent is.

And when he was taking the screwdriver to unlock it, the vent opening was pulled by someone that was _not_ him. In a flash, he had been dragged out of the vent, and saw who caught him.

Mr. Winslow was sending him a vacant expression, but of how he gripped him at the shirt made it an understatement. 

Dib went rigid from the man’s grip on him, broadening his eyes at the shock and terror.

“Have you gotten him?”

Another male voice spoke behind him. And it was verily familiar that Dib’s blood went icy cold once again.

Back from Mr. Winslow is his father, stepping to the side to view him. His arms were crossed, with his gloves off that gave out the robotic arms. He can't distinguish his face because of the goggles and the coat but Dib was knowingly sure he looked stoic and disappointed as ever from his years of living.

He felt his throat constrict, lungs were unable to accept air as he stopped breathing. His heartbeat elevated, fearing and trembling for the worse.

The professor walked beside Mr. Winslow, only staring at him with an unreadable expression.

“Put him down, Winslow,” His father commanded with an authoritative and constraint tone. Mr. Winslow immediately complied, dropping Dib roughly from his blatant grudge. The boy struggled to stand when he was still frozen from the momentary shock of what was happening.

Professor Membrane looked down to face Dib’s fearful eyes, towering him from his large height gap. Dib cowered, stepping back on instinct. There wasn’t any moment wasted when his father ordered Mr. Winslow to escort him to the office. And when the man seized his wrist forcefully, Dib attempted to pull it out, screaming to let him go and call dad to stop. But he didn’t, and Membrane just watched with no emotion.

This caused a thud on the glass wall. The boy whirled to meet Zim furiously banging against the wall, red-faced and livid.

And when he really checked the alien’s whole self, he was badly bruised, littered with more burns and cuts than before. And he was _bleeding_ with his light pinkish blood, even smearing it when he kept banging on the glass.

Dib felt his heart sank, his father’s gloves off, robotic hands that were bursting up energy pulses, and Zim’s bruises all in this one room put him the idea two and two together.

Dib hastily grabbed the taser from the pocket and hit his captor, making him release his grip and convulsed from electric shock. Ignoring the surprised stammer of a father, he bolted for the keypad on the cell door and unlocked it with ease, knowing what was the original codes after months of hijacking it. He went straight to the alien, who collapsed down the floor when he held his spooch tightly. Dib kneeled and examined his injuries. Zim allowed Dib close to him, possibly unaware due to the concentration of groaning in pain from the bleeding he was pressuring. He checked out his head if the tubes were intact, and they are all in just fine. Dib’s breathing was already erratic and panicked, not knowing what to do in this situation since this was uncalled for. He tried consoling Zim, whispering yet stuttering that he’s gonna be alright. 

That cut shortly after he heard the low whirring of a familiar blaster.

Dib turned slowly to glare at his father, who had his robotic arm ready to fire with the energy vibrating. But it wasn’t at him, but for the alien beside him. Zim did take notice of the light that was flaring at them, and hissed at dad when he was nearing on them. Dib decided his father’s abuse on him was enough, and stood in front of Zim, the blaster was now aiming at him. Dad lowered his arm a little, hesitating but still intimidating.

“Son, step aside.” 

“No,” Dib directly snapped, glaring with great intensity, his hatred blowing up from what his father was doing.

Dad got impatient when their sharing glares lasted for a little longer than he expected, reaching for his son’s arm. Dib deflected the hand and threatened him as he lifted up his taser, albeit shaking from the pressure. If his father left him no choice, he won’t hesitate to use it.

Membrane wasn’t fazed by the weapon, though. He walked forward to tackle the taser, and reached it after Dib’s struggle on using it on him. Unfortunately, the weapon only attacked the robotic arm, which hindered useless from the shock. 

The professor flung the taser from somewhere that it clanked as it landed on the floor. Dib stubbornly just tried wrestling his father away from Zim, knowing what was about to come for him. But it was futile when dad clasped both of his tiny arms from a large metal hand.

“Dad, just stop!” Dib cried in a panic, fruitlessly kicking him at the legs.

He deflated from his attempt. His father was very strong, that he almost breaks his arms from his metallic grip. He stared at the boy, conversing the message to step down and move as he slightly tilted his head to the corner. However, he didn’t need Dib’s approval as he hoisted him up from the arm and about to throw him away.

It was cut in an instant, as a large force was able to shove Membrane, losing focus on Dib from his arm as he was released again.

Dib landed roughly yet steadily, wheeling his head towards the one who pushed him.

Zim was heaving, huffing and puffing repeatedly and rapidly. His stance was feral, almost monstrous. Clawed-fingers were separate, body crouching and legs slightly bent. His face, however, is the most menacing. Eye slits were pretty narrow, glowering. The zipper-teeth were looking razor sharped, slithering his pointed tongue that he let out a hiss. Along with the scattered cuts and burns, he looked like a tortured animal on loose.

Dib gets back on his feet, a quick decision to stand in front of the alien. But a familiar green hand prevented him from doing so, stopping him from going further into Zim’s arm upfront. So, he stood behind him, catching sight of his father getting back up to face two petite figures, all giving black looks.

The boy wasn’t dense when Membrane stiffened from the sight, feeling his face frowning. Maybe it was because Dib sided with an alien, or the fact Zim has been siding with him.

“Why would you do this?” Dib asked from a distance, eyeing from the bruises to his father with an accusatory look. “He did nothing wrong!"

Dad looks at him, his eyebrows furrowing, voicing out the one thing Dib feared, “Do not think for one second you did not catch an injury from him.”

He spotted Zim flinching, mostly noticeable when his antennae doing the same. Dib hitched his breath, his firm face settling to cover the trepidation. His father took step by step as the two became more guarded. “Do not think for that one time you were also bleeding.”

He can’t help but question him again, “How’d you know-“ 

“Dib, I knew when you moved away from hugging me.” 

He should have trusted his guts. He should’ve known his dad wasn’t stupid from the moment he winced and quickly pushed him off. He shouldn’t have taken that act lightly.

He clenched his hands, biting his lip. 

“Son, listen,” He eyed at his father, who sounded desperate and tired. “He’s not what you think he is. He’s going to hurt you the second you let your guard down.”

Dib felt a childish urge to tell him off, immediately yell at him for thinking wrong. But as he takes a second glance at Zim’s form and Membrane’s statement, was that he had known this alien for almost four months. He had let his guard down, alright. But Zim didn’t do anything. He didn’t try escaping the day he accidentally fell asleep inside the cell. He didn’t try hurting him when he started bragging on who was being the best that hurt his ego. He didn’t even try fighting him from all the teasing and pranking he had done for the past several weeks. Zim wasn’t a monster his father was trying to say.

He relaxed his breathing, stepping closer to Zim’s arm outstretched in front of him. The alien peered behind him, looking at Dib for any sense that he was still with him. He can read Zim clearly when he has a panicked mind. Not much but enough to register he was warily scared that he might betray him, because of what his own people are doing to him. For what his _father_ is doing to him.

Dib patted Zim’s shoulder for reassurance, whispered to bring down his arm. He did as told and Dib had his eyes back at his father, who he knew was skeptical and stiffened even more when Dib touched Zim’s shoulder. Dib stared him down, confidence surging as Zim backed away for a bit, giving Dib space to talk to dad. “Dad, trust me when I say Zim hasn’t been hurting me for the past three months.” The cat was out of the bag, he can no longer take it back. He observed his father’s features, who has hardened and narrowed when he told him the secret. He must’ve been piecing it out now. 

“So, this is what you’ve been doing for those nights? Sneaking into my laboratory where you are prohibited to go in?” Betrayal and disbelief were set on his dad’s tone, and Dib protested, “You were hurting him! I had to help.” 

“He hurt us more than we do.” 

“LIES! I only observed your pitiful planet before you attacked into my base!” Zim joined in, spitting venom to his father. 

The professor tilts to clearly glare at the alien, who did not shrink at it but stubbornly sent a scornful look, scowling. Dib let his hand raised behind to stop Zim from giving more retort. “He’s right, dad. He hasn’t hurt or kill any of the people,” He reasoned. 

Membrane stepped closer, the atmosphere getting thin every second. “Yet,” He said sharply, devoid of emotion that it scared Dib. “These aliens, son. They aren’t the ones who you can trust. They’re only doing it for their own pleasure.” 

“You’re wrong,” Dib protests, this time it was denying. Because he remembered how many times Zim told him about his world’s eradication. His father noticed his confliction too, which made it harder for Dib to be confident. 

“Son-“ 

“No!” Dib cut him off, already knowing what he would say. There’s one thing that can stop this. He may have forgotten him while he was in a panic And wasn’t reluctant when he called him out, “Gir!” 

Peeking out of the bag was a head of the robot, goofily grinning with a loud “YEAH?!”. Without another hesitation, he pointed at his father, “Go distract dad!” 

He knew dad would be prepared for it, but what he didn’t expect is that Gir had other ideas of distracting. Not smoke bombs or surprise attacks, but jumping out of the bag to stand between Dib and the professor. The robot stared at his father with what Dib assumed, an imp grin when dad was furrowing at the robot in confusion. Then, he began rolling on the ground, laughing and giggling, to which his father had set his eyes on, completely at lost. 

Dib took the time to grab Zim by the hand while the alien automatically knew that they were going for an escape, plugging out the tubes to the ground. The pair broke to a sprint, successfully passing the distracted father. 

They made a beeline to the vents, preparing on all fours when Zim suddenly shoved themselves aside before a sound of a blast erupted throughout the room. 

Dib landed on the ground with a small pained grunt, Zim already kneeling back up with his other arm enwrapped to his spooch. He spotted where the blast came, from the spot they were supposed to step to get to the vents. The Irken quickly hoisted his arm up from the fall, grumbling angrily in his native language. All the while Dib laid his widened eyes to his father, who had his arm aimed to where the black ash of a floor, his face undiscernible. Dib doesn’t know if he was troubled or firm set on destroying his own son for the sake of an alien’s death. 

Then, a barrage of scientists instantly crashed to the party. 

Zim and Dib were on their feet in quick seconds, fleeing to their only way of freedom.

Unfortunately, they were far too late. Hands grabbed both of them, arms were locked up to his shoulders as he struggled on breaking out. He heard Zim shouting and screeching, thrashing to be released, like a wild animal. It was no use, Dib noted long enough since he was trapped in the Crazy House for Boys. 

“LET ME GO! YOU PUTRID SCIENTISTS!” 

“Get the tranquilizer!” 

“Hold it down!” 

Zim was being dragged off of Dib’s vision, still screaming bloody murder. It made him panic, pleading the adults to let him go and check if the alien was alright. That pleas halted when he was faced with his father’s tall and muscular structure. 

Dib went still, his gaze looking up at the man, drowning the shouts from behind. He didn’t get the time to plead away as his father snatched his arm, the grip was soft yet fierce, unable for him to squirm out.

All he did was to plead harder, telling dad that Zim might die, that he might not survive if he kept him out from the tubes. That was all he can do to prevent Zim from dying, even though his efforts fell from his father roughly dragging him away from the room. He turned back to the cell is, where Zim was huddled with scientists tackling him to the ground, being burdened with several bodies that Dib was concerned that it may shorten Zim’s ability to breathe. Mr. Winslow was being picked up by a few of the people, curing him out of the convulsion. Gir was also apprehended with one scientist holding him, while he laughs nonsensically. Dib would find it randomly funny if it weren’t for the scene playing out in front of him.

They were caught right in the act. They’re going to hurt him, and Dib’s going to be grounded again.

As he was being dragged along with his father, exiting the room. Dib began to cry for help.

“Zim!” Dib called, eyes beginning to burn from the water filling them. Zim spun his head to his direction, his own ruby-colored eyes had a fit of fiery anger flaming, now dissipating when he looked upon his ‘acquaintance’.

Panicked and chaotic wriggling occurred, barking in Irken and English as he kept striving for an escape. Dib instinctively stretched his arm to try and reach Zim, his only thought is helping him out.

The doors closed in front of his face, sliding fast enough for Dib to also deflate in defeat.

He let the tears fall. He gave up walking, only dragging his body along until his father sighed and started carrying him like a baby. He laid still, his face was crying yet it looked expressionless. He stared longingly on the walls of the hallways, as his father strides in big steps. Until they finally approached the elevator up to the Membrane Labs.

Dad walked inside, pressing the button where it was supposedly the room Dib discovered this underground lab in the first place. Dib was brought down the ground, still not standing up because he felt like it drains too much energy.

He sat and waited, hugging his legs in an attempt of comforting himself. He was still crying, sniffling and rubbing his eyes to stop blurring his eyes. He didn’t look up to see his father’s already disappointed face, as it drilled into his skull.

Whatever it was, he never bothered to care for his father’s feelings.

His own, though, was chaotic. Jumbled and scrambled, giving him a heavy headache.

“Son,” Membrane spoke up, acknowledging the air between them was thin, the tension was growing as if it feels like someone’s about to blow up. Dib clenched his hands even harder. He won’t accept his apology or any excuse. But what he didn’t expect was scolding him.

“You disobeyed me. You went against my order, Dib.” 

Dib can’t take it anymore.

He sharply stood upright, wet eyes strictly looking up at his father, infuriated and outraged. “I am trying to help him!”

“Dib-“ 

“STOP!” Dib shut his ears with his knuckles, scrunching his face even harder and teeth gritting in anger. “I was giving him a chance to change. He was going fine! Why can’t you see I’m capable?” He trailed off, his exhausted look mixed with bitterness.

Dad paused, seeing his son’s face with small contrition. Yet it came back with a stern tone of, “Dib, you’re just eight-“

“Since when does that matter?” Dib complained back tiredly. “You’ve been bragging your whole childhood about inventing and building that any child couldn’t have done. I’ve been hunting and researching ghosts and monsters without any guardians because you thought that it wasn’t real when it is.”

When he was left with no response but exchanging stares, he bowed his head and sat down, eyes glued to the floor.

It wasn’t a moment later that his dad called him again, “Dib, I’m your father and when I say the rules, it is final,” He spoke gently and softly that Dib tried to throw out the urge to feel bad about his resentment. His words, however, doesn’t cut it.

He took a glimpse of his father kneeling down, facing Dib’s side, while he sat, unmoving. “I’m only trying my best to protect you and your sister. It’s not an easy feat that I had to hide the dangerous things I know. Please, keep in mind that entering this place is dangerous, alright son?” He settled his large robotic hand at his shoulder. Dib did not remove it, nor accepted the comfort.

He just looked at his father with dead eyes, “You’re a liar. You never have.” 

“Di-“ 

“You haven’t been with us since birth, dad. I was practically the one raising Gaz and myself. You were just there and going out every day for some fancy meetings. You haven’t had our backs.”

“Please, just listen-“ 

“No!” He swatted away the robotic hand, albeit it pained due to the metal, but his face held firm.

And with a heavy and thick voice, eyed with a dirty look, Dib spoke out. 

“I hate you.” 

Those are the three words that he will forever remember, and for sure his dad will too. Or maybe not. 

He probably doesn’t care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doesn't a child's words affect their parents more than a gunshot? 
> 
> If not, then they must not have the capacity to love their little ones. If so, what did Membrane feel about it?
> 
> Edit: Also, if you don't mind, I just changed Zim's blood color because I researched far more into Irken biology and had been confirmed by Jhonen that it was pink.


	12. Chapter 12 - What You Don't Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dib is angry, Gaz helps. 
> 
> Meanwhile, Zim talks to Winslow.

Dib tugs his coat tighter to cover himself from the mass of laughter from behind. It was Brian and his friends, as usual, enjoying the torment of his victims. While Dib, the specified victim of the day, ignores and sulks as he picks a tray. 

“What'sa matter, big-headed baby? No one to defend your little wimpy diapers,” Brian hollered the whole cafeteria, obviously wanting the attention. This lead to an uproar of laughter, him being the laughing stock. 

Dib avoids the older children pointing and making fun of him, getting in line to get the food. The good part now was that laughter of several people has been diminishing fast, to Dib’s relief. 

“Hey! I'm talkin' to you, you pimp!” However, Brian is still here to keep his bullying streak. Dib suddenly felt something lumpy and cold thrown at the back of his neck. He inspects it with his hand, then scooped it. It was some kind of grey lumpy food, that it looked like a mashed potato from a few weeks ago. Dib turns up on the adult in this room, the lady who gives them food, and used his pupils to accuse the thrower. But all she responds was a lazy shrug, dumping on a mushy light brown stuff on his tray. 

The boy sighed and left the lady and the line alone. He smears the scooped rotten food on the edge of his tray, making sure it doesn’t affect the one he’s about to feast on. 

Oh how he wished Gir was here to humiliate the idiots behind him. 

Just as he was going to where Gaz was sitting, he got yanked by the collar of his coat and pulled him to face his bully. He was grinning with his yellow teeth of cavities that he almost gagged at the stench of his breathing. Then again, he had been doing this for quite a long time that he got used to it. Luckily, his tray hasn’t fallen from his hands, neither the food. 

“You better not ignore me. Not after the last time you pranked me! Nobody pranks me!” Brian shouts, some saliva spitting to Dib’s face, who was grossed out. He wonders if the spit was in his food, which made Dib repulse more. He tried pulling away, but he should’ve known it didn’t make any progress ever since he had been bullied the first time. 

Brian grips his trench coat, lifting Dib from the ground because of his height. He stumbles with his tray for not to spill the food. He glances at the students, seeking a little help. But all of them seemed very busy gossiping stuff. 

“You’re dead to me, big head!” Brian was aiming for a punch to the face. Again. 

Dib reflexively closes his eyes and tilts to avoid the lunch coming to his eyes or nose. 

“ACK!” A cry escaped from Brian’s mouth and dropped Dib all of a sudden, which made him stagger from standing, along with his tray of food. Something must’ve hit him, seeing from the floor was a metal fork. 

He immediately dashes to the table where Gaz is, who was still playing, and her tray not eaten yet. 

He took a peek to where Brian is supposed to be. 

He was there, being poked at by his friends. He was furious and looked to where Dib was, who shrunk from and averts his gaze to the tray. 

“You won’t get away with this, Dib!” He seems to be crying as his voice cracks. Other students took notice and laughed at him, which gave Dib a small pinch of regret. Even though, it wasn’t even his fault. 

He hears the door bashed open, running footsteps and crying distantly. The laughter fades quickly afterward, leaving a normal cafeteria day on Skool. 

It was another school food of the day: rotten mashed potatoes. It wasn’t good, but it’s decent to be edible. He scarfed it down as fast as he can be, swallowing and almost puking on the bad taste of it. He didn’t care to glance at Gaz taking a peek at his action. It was obvious he’s holding a grudge, spooning each of the mushy food with a face of fiery anger, the plate clacking every time the spoon goes down roughly to get the food. His sister was quiet for a while, letting Dib use the plate and spoon as his leverage of the adrenaline and stress wanting to bust his veins. 

When he was done, he noticed that most of the students were still eating, happily giving him time to put a small blueprint, paper, and a pencil on the table. Gladly, his valuables weren’t interrupting Gaz and her space from where her own tray is (He didn’t mean to take a small glance at her food, but he did detect she doesn’t have a fork. He never bothered thinking about it further). However, she may have paused her game before tilting her head to him, squinting in irate confusion. 

He knew she knew about another dispute between him and dad, it wasn’t a secret to her anymore when they both entered home with distant and repressed hatred looks before Dib slams the door and a clunk of metals down the basement. This was before they went to the hospital to remedy his injury that had been bruising. He felt sorry for her sister being clueless about what transpired at the lab, but his tears and rage spoke out the most. His thoughts were chaotic. 

Like hating on dad, hating on Winslow, worried about Gir, and above all, worried for Zim. 

He wanted vengeance, but he preferred Zim’s breakout first before hurting the people who hurt him and himself. Although, his morality was still clinging, telling him how many times that they were not to blame. Repeating the statement of keeping the focus on getting Zim and Gir out. 

And that’s what he’s gonna do. Tonight. 

Without violence, he can find a way to save them. He will just have to trust himself that he can make this through, that he won’t break faith with his status quo of not killing others. 

“What are you doing?” Gaz asked, a tinge of irritation leaked that it made Dib furrow his brows on the blueprint, answering her ‘uninterested’ question with a sarcastic yet truly enraged tone. 

“Why would I tell you? You would just tell dad about this anyway.” Dib didn’t quite register what he just slipped, abruptly stopped that he knew he said wrong, and took a small peep at Gaz’s expression. 

She wasn’t fazed by it, her dead expression stays the same as she stares at him. But there was a blink of another emotion that he may have been imagining or too slow to process. 

Slightly satisfied with no more remarks, he went back to drawing the layout of the small blueprint, glancing back and forth at the two papers, so he can know if he did it right. Gaz spoke to him again after the few uncomfortable seconds, “You’re going to get caught, y’know.” 

“If that happens, then I won’t stop finding them.” 

“You’re going to get killed,” Gaz insists on dissuading, and Dib resists the idea of giving up. “Gaz, I can’t stand leaving Zim and Gir down there. It’s my fault he’s gonna get tortured more and Gir probably dissembled. I can’t let that happen longer for him until he dies. So, please don’t stop me from doing this,” He furiously stated rather than pleaded, his own hazel eyes locked onto hers. His sister was still and silent, not playing her console. She kept her blank stare at him. Dib puffed the air from his chest, going back to work. 

That was until, a metal spoon hit the side of his head. A loud “Ow” involuntarily escaped from his mouth, looking to Gaz who he assumed the one who threw it since she doesn’t have a spoon at her tray anymore. 

“That’s why I’m going, you idiot. Who knows what disaster could you do when entering there,” Gaz bluntly said, possibly masking the slight concern. Which left Dib stammering to repeat it again. She glared at his question and he shut his lip to a thin line. 

There was a silent understanding between them. Gaz’s affirmed curt nod and Dib’s determined smile of acceptance. 

The siblings discussed the plans, letting Gaz give him advice and warnings on the layout. Dib talked on the devices he worked on the security and Gaz as his defense in case of any mishaps.

* * *

Zim was thrown to a new room but this time he was locked on a smaller cell, he noted. He was being laid down at some sort of cylindrical machine, noticing the holes at the device were intentional. 

He was being inserted with several tubes again, now they were stuck on the top of him, which was also the same shape of the one he was laying. His laid position was unpleasant for his tranquilized body, irking for himself to shift and squirm. His irises pointed towards the man who he hates the most now. He growled when the Winslow patted his cheek tauntingly, smiling like a maniac. He hates being humiliated like this, naked and exposed from this repulsive human. 

“Now, now, alien scum. Wouldn’t want to be more bloodied, do we?” He taunted, earning a loud hiss mixing with an animalistic growl. And the human just _laughed_ at the silent threat, making Zim’s hatred on the human tenfold. 

All of the tubes were back on his head, the lifeclock disappearing. The human pushed his legs into the tank roughly, then enclosing the automatic cylindrical glass wall around him. He realized the moment that he was in a tank tube, where he knew that specimens were being displayed to experiment. Usually, this involved with the ‘acidic’ liquid, but in here, it doesn’t have it. At least, not yet. 

The Winslow-human backed away, looking at him with a pensive look. Zim sent him a death stare, making the human chuckle. “How cute, Irken,” He teased, taking small strides to what Zim presumes, the controls. The table of controls was complicated as his own on the Voot, but this was a human-made one. Who knows what are the right buttons to pick on. 

The human fiddled with it, attentively glancing at him and to the table. He must’ve done something right when he smiled with contempt, a ‘ping’ sound came from the table. Zim anticipated something that correlates to his torture, but nothing happened for a moment of silence. 

“What did you do?” 

“Just my last order of business before I can be fired. Be grateful that the professor was being lenient towards you. He could’ve killed you right on the spot,” He said with a taunting nonchalance, neatly putting hands onto his back. There was a long quiet pause that Zim was unnerved by the fact that the human is still here, creepily observant. Zim tried to squirm, fidget, and move every part of his body, wishing for this human’s hideous smug smile to be clawed and mauled by his hands, savoring the moment he dies painfully by Zim. Unfortunately, he’s in a state where he can’t do anything but watch the human’s every movement. He can talk, but he has nothing to say unless he questions where the smeet and his robot slave are. Although, he won’t know if he’ll honestly tell the answer. 

As if he read his mind, the human asked him, “You want to ask about your little friends, don’t you?” but in a mocking way that his own response was a venomous glare. 

The human chuckled, “Don’t worry about them, they’re fine on their own.” 

“I am NOT worried,” Zim spat. Aside from that, he was internally relieved that the two of them weren’t in much danger as he was. Well, if there is any danger that could torture him more than tests. Unless this human, who was the one who directs the tests, could be most likely lying. Although, GIR was also captured, and if the human was really lying, he could be in danger of being shut down. 

He became too aware of his surroundings, the feeling that Dib calls himself ‘nervous’ when it feels something not right for himself. In other words, he could be anxious. Because who knows what they’ll do to him. What they’ll do to his assistant and the child. It scared him that he can feel this way. Irkens never felt this kind of thing before, not if they were close to defeat from the wars and invasions. But that rarely ever happened. 

He distinctly heard Winslow chuckled lowly, making a non-committal sound of agreement, but sarcastically. With a low sinister voice, he spoke quietly that Zim can hear well enough. 

“Except if the child comes in to save you.” He wickedly smiled. 

Zim’s mind abruptly stopped, the words ingrained on repeat. His face is at a pause, looking at him with a concealed dread. 

“What are you going to do with him, you ugly existence of a human?” He tried making his face neutral and spew an insult, avoiding his own terrified gaze upon the human who looked at him with malice and glee at the same time. He already had to fix the problem of GIR being in danger, now the Dib? 

“Oh, he won’t be a concern to you. You are actually the detriment to my plans, Irken,” The Winslow gave him a knowing and malicious smile yet again. Zim sent a disgusted look back. He wanted to ask what he means about the Dib not his problem and him the as the problem instead, but the Winslow cut him off and resumed, “You see…” Winslow sauntered to get close to the tank tube, where Zim just -on instinct- tried fidgeting to move away from the human. 

“I’m not much of a human you think I am.” 

Then, there was a flick from the human’s wrist. The next thing he saw was the human disintegrating _literally_ upon his very widened, surprised eyes. The skin and attire pixelated to minuscule cubes, then forming a less tall figure. It had dull grey skin, eyes that had a lavender-colored type like the Irken’s ocular implants, but they’re plainly small-rounded. Its outfit changed to a similar suit like Dib calls it ‘a jumpsuit’. The weird part of its body was its feet weren’t normal for humans. It was abnormally standing upward from the tips of their feet. The noticeable ones that Zim was familiarized with are no ears, nose and it has a pair of flexibly rigid horns. 

“You’re a VORTIAN?” Zim gasped with an unexpected horror. Why is a Vortian here? Why is he disguised like a human? There were many questions ringing in Zim’s mind, that mildly throbbed with a small ache. 

The unusually tall (To the general knowledge, they were supposed to be the same height as an average Irken’s.) Vortian stands straight, still the hands laid on his back. Zim stared up at him, shock and bewildered at his appearance. “How?” 

The Vortian gave a malignant smirk, “Why did you think I know about the Irken language? Barely any of the humans can understand that dialect.” He leaned forward of the tank, where he leveled his sight on the Irken. Zim’s face was contorted, acting disgusted that the Vortian got closer. “Why do you think I kept vivisecting you? I may know little things about your race, but I do know how high your pain tolerance Irkens have. Impressive.” He clicked his tongue, his smirk turning to a faint frown. “Except for the fact that you’re attached to someone makes you weaker than other of your people. Laughable, really.” 

Zim glowered and hissed, “Zim is NOT weak.” 

“Tell that to yourself when the child is dead. Then, we’ll see.” The Vortian walked back to the table as Zim shuddered secretly, hardening his glare. 

“You’re too soft on them, Zim. How can the Tallest be proud of you now?” That caught him off guard, nearly faltering his glare on him as he thought about it. What if the Tallest has forgotten him on this planet, just because he got captured by some weakling of a species? That’s low even for an average Irken’s low standards. They must be worried. Or disappointed that he did not send any observation on the planet he was supposed to be ruling on. 

Zim hadn’t seen himself looking down, giving the other alien the satisfaction of showing vulnerability. 

But, Zim is NOT vulnerable. 

_I am not_ _WEAK_

Zim sneered back up, “After I blow this planet to smithereens, I’m going to send you to the Tallest to be executed painfully and slowly. That they will surely enjoy the show.” 

The Vortian laughed derisively, shaking his head. “Not if you’re banished.” 

“This is a _mission_ _._ Not banishment!” 

“Haven’t you heard me at all, Irken?” He looked very annoyed (which, by the way, pleases Zim). He pressed something from the controls and walked back again at Zim’s front. “I’ve seen your PAK. I’ve seen numerous records of your crimes from your own race. And created with a defective PAK. Face it, you’ve been denying.” 

There was a sting. A twinge of pain from his brain that Zim doesn’t understand. He hadn’t been noticing there was a heavy weight on his insides, not enabling him to breathe in (Even though he could. he just doesn't want to). His face morphing to an aggressive thoughtful look, eyes locked to the other alien, who crossed his arms with a smug frown. 

Then, those silent thoughts turned to anger, “ZIM IS NOT DENYING! NEVER WAS!” His own words and confidence were foggy for him. He doesn’t know if he is sure of himself. Or ever at all. 

The Vortian sighed, “You petty Irkens. Always think you’re all in the right.” 

“That’s because we are always in the right!” 

The other alien sent him a look, which he gave the same in response. He wasn’t going to lose to some Vortian who were their slaves to make their military technology. 

“The Tallest will hear from your treacherous makings and your loyalty will be judged,” Zim states. 

While the Vortian scoffs, “My loyalty is within my people. No one can change that.” He bends and leans to the glass, looking Zim straight in the eye. 

“Ever. Not even your terroristic race.” 

As the tense stare lasts longer, Zim growls, wanting the Vortian to be ripped to shreds. “Then, you’ll be nothing but dead meat,” Zim threatens, but it did nothing to scare the other alien. Instead, he forces out a chuckle, a mere insult that Zim can’t stand but to huff angrily. 

Vortians are marked by the Empire, owned to create something purposeful for them. It is to be expected that other Vortians tend to rebel and create an alliance of enemies, but what does this Vortian have to gain from trapping one Irken? What is he doing on this planet? Is he going to steal his mission? For Zim, that would be absurd to think of. They are capable of making technology, but they were never fighters. The only thing that keeps them alive and safe was that they were under control by the Irken Empire. 

If that’s the case, why is a Vortian here? 

He stood up, marching right back at the controls. And just when he thinks Zim was not gonna talk, he asked, “Why are you here, exactly?” 

The other alien was quiet, bothering the controls with seemingly no great concentration at all. It must’ve meant that he had been doing this for a long time. 

The Vortian then looked up at the Irken with another blank expression, touching something at his wrist. 

The appearance of the alien was disintegrating again, forming into the Winslow-human as before. His freakish parts of the body changed to a human’s. No horns or small purple eyes but brunette hair, aqua eyes, and tan skin. His height increased to which a human adult male’s one (which made Zim terribly envious). His stupid arrogant grin crept up from his face that Zim always wanted to take it off. 

“It was nice meeting you, Zim.” As he was about to turn to the exit, Zim called, “Hey! You did not ANSWER my question!” 

The human/Vortian stopped walking, his back is in Zim's front, frustratingly not being able to see his face. 

Until he swiveled his head to him, his face is casually calm yet an ominous one. 

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” He said gravely, with the ugly despicable smile. 

The Winslow left the room, leaving Zim to mull over the conversation and the revelation. 

That sadly halted, when Zim sees a reflected shine from the floor. And it pricked him. It was stinging him. 

It was then he realized this is the water, leaking from several of those tiny holes. 

He began struggling with his unconscious body, desperately trying to make to move to stand. Anything to get his body away from water. If it reaches to a full glass of water, Zim doesn’t have a choice but to die painfully. Just like the Membrane would want. 

When his body felt the hot simmering pain of the toxic liquidity, he stifles a shriek, only sounding out grunts of the hurt skin. 

The water slowly seeps in the tank, taking its time to fill the whole space he has. 

He’s stuck in here, without anyone helping him now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, on the bright side, Winslow's getting fired.


	13. Chapter 13 - You Can't Stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The siblings are rebelling.

Sitting on a dining chair for hours can be a pain. His backside numbs from the hard oak wood, probably will sore if he wants to stand up. He had been busy preparing plans for more meetings and conventions by the future weeks, setting the schedule for it while working on a device he had been bugging himself about. 

The professor put down the Philips, setting the other screwdrivers in a toolbox and placing down the unfinished invention. He rubbed his forehead from the headache forming. Leaning on the chair for his back to rest, he deeply breathed out. 

After he ordered one last thing to Winslow before firing him, (He must admit that he was being too considerate and kind that he obeyed the task despite knowing he’ll lose his job. Suspicious, but he was technically kind.) it should be an hour or two for the alien to burn himself from the water completely, would be resulting ashes of the body or a corpse, he won’t care. 

The least he can do is that alien would never be a bother to endanger his children. 

Speaking of which, his children were supposed to be here by now. 

The father glances at the clock. It was nearing seven of the night, which isn’t normal for the Skool’s dismissal. Is it? Did he forget something about extending their time? Was there something he’s missing? 

It didn’t take him a long process to understand his situation, making it a sad realization. 

He hasn’t been with his kids since they started Skool. 

They were only just enrolled and he never spoke of it again. He just only used the Membrane droid to order them around most of the morning to prepare for Skool and finish their needs. Then, when they’re done, they’ve been walking all along the sidewalks of their town, barely any guardians to take them home. 

“ _You haven’t been with us since birth, dad. I was practically the one raising_ _Gaz_ _and myself. You were just there and going out every day for some fancy meetings_.” 

Dib’s words were engraved on Membrane’s mind, stuck on the actuality that his son is telling the truth. He hadn’t been taking care of his children often due to so many planned businesses that talks on his job. Too busy to bother his children’s small achievements in life. Too busy to notice them possibly crying alone in the night, because he wasn’t there to soothe from their monsters under the bed. It was no wonder Gaz has a hardened state from an age of a little girl and Dib being independent. He was only there. A silhouette of a father, unknown to his kids but established as their own parent. 

“ _You haven’t had our backs_.” 

He’s being a neglectful parent. 

“ _I hate you_ ” The last phrase left Membrane wincing, his breathing felt heavy to inhale at all. 

It was true how some parents were hurt by how their children see them as the villain. 

It was true how three words for a child to say to their parent can hurt more than a stab of a knife. 

Professor Membrane stood up, already feeling the numbness of his rear. Ignoring the lone ticking of the clock, he stepped out of the dining room to get to the front door. Extended or not, he’ll go check on them just in case. What he needs is to redeem himself. To take care of his kids properly, like a good responsible father. 

He picked up his phone and dialed the Skool administration. 

Just in time for a creaking of the door. 

Membrane looked up to the front door, where Gaz pushed to open the door with one hand while her other clung to the bag on her shoulder. Her chocolate-colored eyes squinted at him in confusion. 

The professor closed his phone and put it back to his lab coat pocket. He immediately strode near Gaz. “Daughter, what has taken you so long in Skool?” He asked, concerned. Gaz shrugged in response, walking past her father as she closes the door, “Something happened.” 

The reason was vague, which made him skeptical. “What happened?” 

She turned away for a little, her face slightly changing, wrinkling her brows and lip to a thin line while managing her usual grumpy expression. It seemed like she was… repressing something. 

The father began to worry, furrowing his eyebrows. “Is there something wrong? Did something happen?” That was when he took notice that Dib isn’t with her. 

“Gazlene, where is your brother?” 

His daughter sighs, maybe huffs since he can’t identify her emotions but being gloomy all the time. He held her shoulder firmly but lightly, worried that his robot hand might break her bones. He can’t let her see the complete expression he was showing, but hopefully, this gesture might work off a worrisome father. Gaz finally, yet slowly, turned her head to him, her eyes bore into his goggles, looking quite solemn than the usual angry looks. 

That gave her the silent words that he can understand. 

“I’m sorry, dad,” Gaz mouthed. 

He thought he was still kneeling, staring at her daughter’s guilty face. The face of all the years of neglect, she finally stood up on her own. And then in an instant, he was falling on the floor, his body sounded with a thud. He felt his body system shutting down, and the electrifying sensation that took over. He has a good amount of pain tolerance, so the shock wasn’t what got him perturbed was he can’t move. Even his own robotic hands. 

Someone shadowed the lighting on his sight, a small form of black and blue. 

Dib looked down at him vacantly, holding the confiscated taser from his lab basement. He had his backpack slinging to his shoulders, which has questionable weaponry as to why he would bring those. 

Then, it struck him. 

Those weapons were also from his lab. 

“Son?” He was dreadfully confused, and yet he knew what he was doing. He was going to go save that alien. He was risking all of this trouble just to rescue that bastard. 

When he didn’t get any response but two pairs of expressionless youths, he started urging the boy to settle down. 

“Son, don’t. Nothing good will come out of this.” 

Dib narrowed, his visible distaste growing, “You can’t stop me from doing this. You brought this upon yourself, dad.” He kneeled down in front of him, fumbling his lab coat, searching for something. 

Membrane tried squirming a way out, wanting his son to stop what he’s doing. He looked to Gaz, signing that he needs her help. His instinct was on his daughter to cease her brother from his nonsense. She always complies, gaining on her father’s good side instead of her sibling. But what he just witnessed onto Gaz’s gaze was nothing but a tinge of guilt. His own daughter, the one who often follows his rules and regulations, obeys her father’s tasks, wasn’t there anymore. Now, she was finally, albeit for him a little painfully, grasped the idea that her father isn’t much of a father. It was clear on her face when she didn’t flinch or twitch for any sort of regret. She felt guilty because, in a long time, she gets to disobey. Just like her mother. 

He found out too late when he was done, a keycard in hand. The personal one. Used for only himself. 

“Dib, please-“ 

“Let’s go, Gaz.” 

His boy stepped away from his frozen sight, leaving Gaz at the sidelines. She stared at him, her stony-faced look intact. 

“Goodbye, Dad,” Gaz said in a flat tone. 

Then, she was gone, hearing the door lock and the security on. Dib must’ve hacked the system inside the house. 

Professor Membrane stayed there, murmuring in his mind of endless apologies and wishing for some powerful entity to help him out of this situation. 

The truth is, he wasn’t scared of the paralyzed body in him, but the children possibly dying from this stupidity of a rescue mission. 

_They’re kids, for god’s sake!_ Membrane voiced inside his head, scolding at himself. 

All because he should’ve been more responsible. 

* * *

The siblings trudged along the sidewalk, directly to where the Membrane Labs should be. They were quiet, but the annoying traffic and chatters of citizens consider the 'calm before the storm' is not an option for both of them. 

Gaz was playing her game while keeping track of where Dib would go. Dib plays with his drive, unnecessarily scrutinizing it with extreme focus. He was aware of where he would walk in spite of it. His face was hardened, scrunching up any emotion but solid determination. 

“You do know we may not go back home anymore if we have Zim back, right?” Gaz reminded. 

“Yeah, we’ll go to Zim’s house.” 

“Zim’s house?” 

“Oh, right. I forgot some things I didn’t mention.” Dib sheepishly scratched his neck, stowing the drive to his pocket. “He said he had a base. If he can modify it to a new design and with a new human disguise, then maybe it’ll go smooth. If you’re willing to live with us,” He added the last part. Since he kinda had Gaz for the team, it meant she would have the choice of leaving dad because the possibility of being disowned (though, he’s pretty sure his chances of it happening are higher than hers). 

Dib felt a pang of remorse that he had to take Gaz with him just to disobey the one she was the only one loyal to. But then again, she was the one who decided to join this mission, she should’ve known what’s coming to dad. 

He snapped back from his thoughts to hear what is Gaz has to say, “Depends. If this goes smooth like you said, which most likely won’t happen.” 

“That’s partly true-“ 

“I can go back to playing in my room. But if it does go bad, I don’t have any choice but to live with you idiots.” 

Dib stared at her for a long time, with a part of him that didn’t expect she would actually agree to this. So, in order to act cool and not be thwacked by the head because of being sappy, he just shrugged and hummed in satisfaction. 

They arrived at the back door of the Membrane building, where most staff leaves here. They checked the parameters first, making sure if they spot any cameras, they are to be hacked instantly by Dib’s untraceable phone (He’s not stupid when he received this device from his father, meaning it could either be tracking to where he’s supposed to be. He had this deactivated since day one of his first encounter with Zim). And after for a few minutes of Dib looping the cameras while Gaz guards the staff door, in case if anyone exits in this way, they finally snuck inside the staff room. 

The siblings saw hallways of metal lockers, some were open and some were locked. Dib looks up first to detect anyone spying them. Aside from that, they were ready to take on the vents. 

Dib had both of his hands ready for his sister to step on, using these as a support for Gaz to climb up the tall lockers, where the vent opening is. She rose her feet on the hand, enabling her to lift up to the top of the locker. He brushes off the dirtied hands that came from her boots, hearing the slight clanking of the screws. 

“The vents are fool-proofed, we can’t get in,” She declares, glancing down at Dib. He inwardly curses at his father then called Gaz to go down. She jumped off and landed with ease. “Guess we’ll have to go on plan B?” Dib recommended to her. Gaz just gave him a curt nod and does what she was supposed to do that Dib planned on. She leaves the locker room, Dib being left alone to pluck out the needed clothing for this plan to work. 

He wore the small lab coat that his father gave it for him last Christmas. He then put a football cap on and removed his glasses, so people won’t identify him as the ‘crazed child of Membrane’. 

He stuffed the glasses into the bag and readied himself as he heard a door creaking. 

“This is my friend, and we wish to go to the hallways of Science,” Gaz showed the random staff member a disguised Dib, who covered half of his face with the cap, lowered his head in respect of whom adult she was with. 

“Oh, well, you can try going for the elevator behind the lobby. That’s where most of who work here use it. Since you’re Membrane’s daughter, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” The adult directed. 

Gaz uncaringly waved the adult off, with Dib murmuring a form of gratitude to the staff before walking away from him and the locker room. 

Dib huddled himself on the lab coat, cap tightly fit on his big head as they headed for the elevator. They were walking with most adults bumping around and busying themselves with something about 'adult stuff'. Luckily, fewer staff members have been working on the night, making the siblings’ job much easier. 

They got to the elevator without any trace of suspiciousness and pressed the level where Dib says to go. 

“Ok, so get to the vents, use the drive, find every inch of the place and I rescue Zim while you to Gir. Escape through the vents then sneak out the staff area as fast as possible. Sound good?” Dib recalled, pacing around the small space of the elevator. Gaz made a noncommittal hum of confirmation, her focus on her console. Dib breathed in deeply, closing his eyes for a small rest after he didn’t sleep that much last night. 

All of this plan can lead up to a catastrophe. He could fail if the procedures went wrong, then this could’ve been for nothing. But Zim is still there, suffering and dying. Gir could be turning into their weapon. Even if the plan fails, he’s still not going to back down. As long as they’re still alive in the IGE, then he’ll have to do whatever it takes to get them out. 

With that inner monologue, he felt new energy coursing through his veins, invigorated on the motivation of saving his friends. 

The pair heard a ping of the elevator, the doors sliding to see the hallways of scientists and white metal doors. Dib tugged his coat tighter, bowing his head to prevent the familiarity of Dib’s face. Gaz stepped out first, Dib following behind. 

“Act natural, don’t screw it up,” She advised in hushed tones that Dib understood perfectly. He nodded in response and walked casually. 

He notices the boots of the scientists roaming back and forth at his sight, all talking gibberish on Science stuff. Some were angrily stomping with unintelligible mumbles of panic and stress. Doors were being slammed opened and closed, passing by many surgery tables and machines. It was a mystery as to why these adults didn’t take a peek on both children walking to the double doors. For the first time, Dib was glad by the sheer ignorance of these people, letting Dib and Gaz secretly made it inside the double doors. 

He quickly undressed the coat and the cap, putting back his trench coat and glasses. “You ready for this?” Gaz said, shoving her game inside his bag without permission, though she doesn’t need to anyway. Dib clutched the keycard to his hand, showing it to Gaz. His unwavering gaze is all dead set at this moment. 

“I’m ready.” 

Dib tightened the straps of his backpack, and moved in front of the concealed elevator. He banged the elevator, making the camera scan appear beside it. Dib put the keycard in front of the camera, making it scan the object only. 

“How can you know that it will work?” Gaz asked from behind. 

“Dad trusts his machines. I knew this from the moment I hacked the system where Zim’s containment is. I found that Dad’s card can be used. The one that he didn’t let go until he dies with it.” 

On cue, the camera was gone, going back inside the wall as the doors of the elevator slid open. Dib entered first and Gaz grumbled something before going with him. “I hope you know you’re in for a lot of trouble,” She cautioned. Dib presses the IGE button and they descended underground. 

“I know,” was all he had to say in this situation. He sideway glanced at her, seeing the conflict on her face. He shook it off, it was now or never at this point. 

The elevator kept going down, annoyingly slow if Gaz has to say anything about it. Dib stood upright, anxious what may come to them, scared that he might fail. This is it, isn’t it? It’s either win or get caught. 

His mind whirled around so many scenarios on what could happen. Some were successful, but most were just getting caught. Like what if his drive doesn’t work? But that couldn’t be true, Dib made sure that it was better than fool-proofed security. Although, it could malfunction, which may ruin the plan. Or what if Zim wasn’t at the containment? Or anywhere in this place? What if he was moved to Area 51? All of his work would mean nothing. 

And he would be alone again. 

“Shut up,” Gaz uttered out quietly, sounding very irritated. Dib cocks an eyebrow at her, “Wha-“ 

“I can hear you rambling from a mile away and it’s bothering my game. Just focus on getting them out and that’s it.” 

“But how’d you-“ He received a narrowed glare that shut himself up. He was certain he didn't speak out loud this time.

“Just focus on the mission. That’s it,” She repeated it sternly, and Dib looked to her doubtfully, before staring at the floor. She’s right, don’t focus on the wrongs. He’ll have to think positive like always, think that his plan would work. He’ll find them, and he’ll be certain that he won’t be giving up anytime soon. 

Just as the doors opened, Dib was about to get to the vents. 

Until he saw a crowd of scientists looking at them. 

They weren’t surprised or shocked. Their faces looked cold and indifferent. They looked bored. They looked dead. 

Both siblings froze under their feet, Gaz not playing anymore as she stared at the people, alarmed with widened eyes. Dib gaped in horror, shaking profusely as the silence stretches between their stares. 

“Hi,” Dib sheepishly greeted them (he was pretty sure Gaz facepalmed at the background), until he grabbed her hand and bolted through the crowd as quickly as possible. Somehow, they managed to avoid the arms and hands seizing their way, dodging them with great speed as Gaz attacked some of them so that they can’t get in their way. 

Right now, they were being chased. Their breaths picked up the heartbeats and got elevated, their newfound energy wearing out. They’ve been running for a long time in these series of hallways of locked metal doors that consist of keypads and card scanners. He couldn’t act fast to take the risk of hiding in of these doors, but he can try losing them. 

“Gaz, don’t kill. Just neutralize them,” He reminds, pulling out the adjustable staff sticking from his bag. He extended it out and gave Gaz a look. She glanced at him shortly, signing she was ready. 

Hence, Dib strikes out at the scientists, smashes their heads with the staff. Hopefully, the force was only enough to give concussions. The ones who were hit had begun to stagger and fall down, strangely fidgeting. At the other half, Gaz just gave them a beating, kicking them at the knee and punching their faces, just enough to knock out of their consciousness. Dib had to admit Gaz is capable of being independent herself, even at a young age. Her aggressiveness gave a menacing aura that no person would ever come to deal at the end of her wrath. 

Unluckily, he’d been thwarted by their many bodies tackling him on the ground. He abruptly inhaled audibly from the pressure, pushing himself off the weight in distress despite the futility of it. The staff was chucked out of his grasp, flinging it from somewhere 

He struggled to fumble for the taser, involuntarily having small whimpers from the sore ribs about to possibly break. For a quick slowed moment, he thought he was about to pass out because of the lack of air. 

Suddenly, he can breathe again. 

He found the opportunity to scurry away from the position he was in as felt the bodies are getting lesser. He spotted the thrown weapon and immediately went for it. 

He pointed the staff as he turned around to face the enemies. 

But what he witnessed was a complete massacre. Some did flee the scene, but some of them were filled with metallic parts and human cut to pieces. Although, those ‘human’ parts have metal and blue electric shocks coming out of the insides of the humane alloy. There were eyes sticking out that has copper wires in it, holes of them have grey and shining scraps of iron and metal alike. 

Dib stood, flabbergasted. He then caught sight of Gaz, who used a part of the metal from the ‘human’ to impale the one who’s alive, charging onto her. She strikes the head strongly, that the long metal part passed through the head. The thing is, the scientist didn’t spurt out blood like a normal human would. The man fell down instantly as the wires of the head stand out from its head. Gaz released the metal and walked nonchalantly to Dib, who was still stunned. 

“Were those…?” Dib trailed. 

“Robots? Yeah,” Gaz finished, getting back to her game like nothing happened. Dib surveyed the whole narrowed area, the revelation was clear. If dad had made this, it was programmed to know that Dib would attempt for an infiltration. He clenched his fists, enraged that he couldn’t try programming it to not almost killing him on spot. 

Not right now, though. Zim and Gir need help. Dib picked up the keycard and lend it to Gaz, who halted for a while to take the card. “Alright, here’s the card. Take it and find Gir while I have my drive to get to-“ 

He didn’t get to continue, because the lighting became red and the alarms blared loudly. 

“Crap,” Was the reaction of both siblings said to each other. 

* * *

Zim picks up a loud sound from his antennae. He concentrated on what it was.

It was an alarm annoyingly ringing.

He nearly closed it off, until he realized what it was for.

_Dib-stink_


	14. Chapter 14 - Now Or Never

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim is struggling from dying in the water.

As Zim caught the sounds of alarms outside the tank, he stands up rigidly, fully control of his body and mind. He can still feel the sizzling of the water reaching on his head, but he got used to it after the several hours of staying here, still unbelievably alive. Though, it burns to an extent of an Irken’s limit, that didn’t stop Zim from having the motivation on getting out of here again. 

Forgetting those past hours of suffering for eternity, the alien was set on panicking, trying to find a way out of here while striving on not dying with the water leveling to the half of his head. Dib-idiot is out there, being an idiot and stubbornly wanting to save him from this _hell._ If he’s risking all for him and Gir, then it wouldn’t hurt to try and help himself. He banged the glass while the water splashes, seeking if it has cracks. 

There wasn’t, because his arms were feeling very weak. This must be a cause of the water rising that consumes his energy on staying alive, the strength on his whole body is beginning to diminish except his consciousness. 

“Think, Zim,” He scolds himself out loud, looking up to prevent water from swallowing to his insides, dead set on focusing on everything he can use for an escape. The Dib had told him that everything can be a weapon if he can be smart enough to use it. Everything can be leverage. Everything can be anything. Although it was to tease his incompetency, the advice had a purpose right now. And for the whole time staying in that glass box, he hasn’t thought of anything of an escape. 

But this is a new environment. If he can just use his mighty Irken brain to find something he could use for, then this won’t be a problem. 

Zim watches the machine that is supposed to be his new PAK. It was just beside the tank, sounding of a typical machine-thingy does. Then, he turns to the controls that are far from his reach. He won’t be able to get there if he tried plucking out one tube to throw at it, he doesn’t know how to get it out of here anyway. Plus, he doesn’t even know how the controls work. 

He jerks as the antennae hear various footsteps passing by his room, all hurried to go somewhere. If the Dib-stink started this whole alarm, the people out there must be in a chase to get to the brat. 

“Blarghit!” He cursed, almost putting the liquid onto his mouth. That stupid Dib could be dying for all he knows. 

And it scares him that he was panicking even more. 

He held up the tubes, thinking this through. This is the only object that was inside the tank. These connect to the PAK machine. If only he can- 

“ACK!” Zim cries, the skin already feeling as if it was searing from the hot burning sensation of water. He grits his teeth, focused on holding the tubes and the machine. 

If he dies here, there would be no honor for the Irken Empire as he failed his mission, his loyalty, and his place as part of the Elite. He would be imagining the displeased faces of the Almighty Tallest, shaking their heads at the cowardly failure of their best soldier on Irk. He would be a disappointment as an Irken. And incompetent. 

_Incompetent_

He slowly ascended to roaring his frustration out, not caring if some bits of liquid seeping into the mouth. He began scratching the glass with his blazing anger, fuming from the idea that he wasn’t _incompetent_. He can do it. He can make it, and he will. He is Zim! 

It sparked an idea. He has no other options in this, so this will have to do. 

The water was now getting to his eyes, instinctively shutting them to not go any further of burning himself. He still feels his whole skin was scorching in pain as the water kept longer within, the energy depleting. 

He acted fast, yanking all of the tubes with all his remaining strength. Next was clawing them to create slender holes as hard as he can, since he can’t see but can feel it and the fact that he doesn’t have much time. Just as the liquid completely fills his body, he plunged the broken tubes to the water deeper, shaking them desperately. 

He can feel his awareness of reality fading, the feelings numbing until he couldn’t. He doesn’t know if he- 

In an instant, from his antennae still not drowning in water, picked up the loud noise just beside him. 

Then, he heard an explosion. 

The machine blew up, affecting the tank as he felt shards of the glass floating and piercing to his burning skin, which made an effective attack on his strength lessening. 

The next thing he knew is that he felt damp, but no water surrounding him anymore. Although, there is a puddle of it at what he was laying on. He was coughing out the excess water from his mouth, his tongue also burning from the sensation. His face scrunched up, feeling like the last time he accidentally ate a ‘chili’ from a human market. 

It took him a while to recognize he fell onto the floor, water was spilled and now spreading through the floor. He jolted out of instinct and scampered from the area of puddles. With shallow breathing, he shakily stood up, feeling the sting of the small shards punctured to his naked body. But in time, it’ll heal. Irkens have high pain tolerance due to thick skin, so he won’t have to worry about the broken glass on him. Even so, the water is still soaking on him, dripping on the ground. It doesn’t make him cold like the Dib had told him. It was like a fire flaring his body, frying it like some food. Especially his insides. 

Zim stared at the broken glass tank. The edges of the tank still have the glass sticking out, glad for himself he didn’t get to be stuck on those pointed and cracked things. The tubes he clawed on were making electric bolts to the machine, which looked totally exploded. There were a few strong metals dropped on the floor, most of them were ashes and malfunctioning as it tries rebooting, seen on the small screen in front, to which Zim didn’t notice that after so many machines he had been implanted on. The information inside the screen was glitching, but he could see the loading screen hanging on ten percent, then putting out an ‘ERROR’. The next words were said, “IRKEN NOT FOUND”. 

He was pondering on how did they manage to make a near replica of their PAK, but he can tell that himself for another day. 

“WARNING!” Zim, startled, heard the speakers on the other side of the room. “ALIEN IS IN BREACH! REPEAT! ALIEN ON THE LOOSE!” The womanly robot announced through those small speakers, but was booming very loud. 

Zim was then given a sight of his lifeclock, ticking to nine minutes and twenty-five seconds. 

He runs to the door, trying to push or pull the knob. Unfortunately, he sees the card scanners, rendering his attempt useless. Nevertheless, he was hellbent on getting out of here and views the whole room for another way. 

He notices the vents. 

With a renewed vigor, he went for it and violently wrenched the lid off, the screws fell broken. He dove inside the vents, crawling hastily. Despite far away from the opening, he can hear the alarm blaring and a woman's voice telling on Zim’s breakout, which is what he feared that’ll happen. And that Dib-stink had to be part of his problem. 

“That infuriating sniveling little worm,” Zim muttered, crawling nowhere, not knowing where to go. His first priority is finding his PAK. He can’t assist those idiots unless he lives for at least longer than ten minutes. Dib has a higher chance of survival since, he admits, he has some skills of getting out of dangerous situations. He recollected the time he grazed the brat’s chest (He always gets this weird feeling when he keeps mentioning about that event.) and he backfired by a quick taser before he could go hostile towards him. He was sure that Dib will live for long. GIR, however, is much different. He could handle himself if he’s smart to go on offensive mode, but Zim knew that was far from that. The possibility will be being shut down, or just dismantled. Zim hopes he was just dismantled. He can fix him that way. If he is shut down, Zim has to figure it out someway to make it work. 

That’s what he’s gonna do. Find the PAK, rescue GIR, and save the smeet’s butt for last. 

He hasn’t seen any openings yet, which infuriates him more than the Dib’s stubbornness because his lifeclock is on the line. 

The narrow space of the vent was getting dark, not having openings that have some kind of light to illuminate here. Zim can only try tracking his way by feeling the surface on what he’s crawling on. He took a glimpse of his lifeclock, the time already down to eight minutes. He crawls at a brisk pace, saving some energy for an attack. He still feels sore and tired from the water soaking him since he had to focus all of his energy on that to keep himself alive. 

He later found something he heard of. It was solid, rectangular, and had a symbol. Zim shook it and noticed it has supplies in it. The symbol was glowing dimly of the blue color, a drawing of an eye. He knows where this came from. 

Dib-stink had explained this small case for what he called “his paranormal investigation”. He says that professionalism has to be prepared in any case or scenario. He remembered that there were some weapons he could use for. He was lucky the ugly Dib forgot about his case and left it here. 

So, he flicked the locks open of the suitcase and opened it. He grinned malevolently as he chose the stun gun and the laser pointer. “This is going to be fun,” He expresses with mischief. 

His antennae twitched, his hearing suddenly picked up of a shrill shriek of maniacal laughter. 

“GIR!” Zim shouts, crawling as fast as he could, the suitcase in tow. He readies his stun gun to an extreme and the laser pointer activated for the distraction. 

When he caught a glimpse of dim lighting, Zim immediately went for the light. And lucky enough, he can hear GIR’s laugh louder and louder as he crawls for the light. He saw the vent opening from the bottom and peered through the gaps of the vent lid. 

There he discerns the room. The first thing he took notice was GIR laying at a metallic table that closely reminds him of the experimental room, where he was getting vivisected. But there were a lot of piled materials of alloy and wires, some were unfinished machines and blueprints at the desk, messy and scattered. He observes as the robot made a usual laugh, then being smacked down by a scientist, shushing him harshly. Zim narrows in resentment. He had been tortured every day by these people. And now they’re gonna torture his robot slave? 

The Irken suppressed his anger, eyes twitching and acted on the plan, picking the laser pointer. He turned it on again and pointed it at his bottom, specifically on near GIR’s table. There were only a couple of scientists that looked very busy doing something to his stupid blueprints while the other inspects the SIR unit. He will have to take advantage of the situation. 

Thus, the plan worked as GIR ‘ooh’ed the laser Zim was showing at. “Iz a smol, tiny, tineeee red light!” GIR exclaims, jumping up and down like a stupid smeet child. The other already spotted it and was figuring it out, and the one on the blueprints began to take interest in what he just heard, walking near the table where the laser was pointing. Zim grins and punched the vent opening down, bringing the attention of three occupants. Zim pulled out the stun gun and shot the first enemy with precision. He lands perfectly, knees bent a little to keep him from straining his legs and to prepare himself for an immediate battle, which was happening. The good thing is that he was able to land at the table, where GIR is just beside him. 

“Mastah!” GIR beams, standing up but without his wonky arms. Zim paid no heed for GIR’s jovial smile and concentrated on one more enemy to neutralize. The scientist took the first punch, but Zim swiftly dodged. He took the short second of a chance to elbow the arm stretched out for him, hard. 

The arm broke, and the scientist spilled out wires. Zim stares shockingly as the ‘human’ twitches involuntarily, like a human seizure. The eyes looked like it was glitching. Like from television screens when they’re malfunction. Zim found it weirdly scary. 

He shakes his head from the shock and roughly pushes the weird scientist to the floor, pinning him harshly to make sure he won’t get up. 

All of a sudden he got locked between the arms of another enemy, the one that he stunned with, wrapping and compressing him to take out the air from his insides. Zim inhaled sharply and grits his sharp zipper-like teeth as he took a bite off the arm on the front. This resulted in electric sparks from the bitten arm, releasing Zim from his grip. 

He had half a second to register the other person about to take a blow and another half a second to clumsily dodge the fist, staggering his steps a little to balance himself. He caught a view of tools just right at the desk of blueprints, his eyes bore onto the wrench. With a drift away from the humans’ sudden move at him, he snatched the tool and prepped the stun gun, dropping the laser altogether. He hastily shot the glitchy-eyed human and smashed the other on the head, showing out a grey metallic piece from his skull. If this was proved to be an artificial intelligence like the Dib said, the evidence is said to be metal bodies and no liquid of red squirting out. 

Basically, Zim can have his fun. 

He started hitting the broken-skull scientist to the side of his head, resulting in the neck near separating the connection of its head and body. As quick as he can, he threw the wrench straight at the head, dismembering it completely from the body as it landed on the wall. Mighty Irken strength still within him. 

Zim took care of the stunned glitchy human by tackling him to the ground. He cackles evilly, “How the turns have tabled- eh whatever the Dib quoted BUT YES. Look at my Irken might, filthy scientist!” The human tries squirming away from Zim’s strong grip at pinning him down. It was pointless to do that when he’s out for vengeance. 

With a malevolent smile, the next thing Zim did was push his hand deep to the metallic body and pull it violently, clutching some inside parts of its body. He didn’t need to worry about it anyway, it was a machine. And practically a threat. 

“WOHOO! DO IT AGAIN!” GIR clapped from behind, cheering Zim from victory. It did alleviate the urge from getting more deaths from his hands. The Irken sighed with a victorious grin and went to the robot to fix the arms back. 

* * *

Gaz wasn’t really expecting something else but panic, really. After she and Dib had to split up to cover more ground to find an alien and a robot had her tired from running around whilst being hidden from the horde of security guards and scientists prowling around to try and find her and her brother. All she has now is a metal arm of an AI, dad’s personal science-y card, and a bunch of injuries, along with the tiring use of stamina to keep running. 

But this is what she signed up for, might as well deal with it. Besides, this is much better than having toddler princess toys at home. She is nearing eight, and she’s not acting baby just for the sake of her young age. 

And later on, she entered another unknown door. She did not expect to find two severed bodies of robot laying messily at the floor and two different-sized figures just at a metal table. Gaz glares at the two persons. She hadn’t been here before. She enters a lot of containment rooms and janitorial staff rooms, but not some kind of repair or storage ones. Except there was one room where all alien technologies are stored and displayed, though that was all she came across something new. 

The first living being she sees was a green-skinned looking preteen, naked, and a pair of antennae atop. The second is a robot that she immediately recognizes it’s Gir. 

She drops her guard down a little, still cautious about the new guy. “Who are you?” The question startled the green creature and swiveled its head to her, paranoid pink eyes staring at her blank hazel eyes. 

“Who are you?!” The alien asked with a very annoying and penetrating voice. It irritates her. 

She ignores its question and examines the alien. The voice is scratchy, but it sounded like a male. And it has Gir along, which was Zim’s servant. And the bot seemed much happier with the green alien. It all fits Dib’s description of Zim. 

“So, are you Dib’s best friend or what?” 

“Zim is no- wait, you know the Dib?” The alien asked, clarifying Gaz’s guess. “Obviously, why did you think I asked with his name on it?” She bluntly sassed with little emotion, finally relaxed that she found she was looking for. Especially that she got two of them, which Dib must be running on a goose chase. Gaz walked in the room, not caring if she stepped on some papers about some Science that dad may have been working on too. 

Zim looked at her warily, “And I asked you who are you exactly?” 

Gaz deadpans, “If you’re smart enough, you would think Dib has a sibling.” 

The alien gave her a pensive look, Gir hanging around by humming loudly with nonsense tunes. Gaz crossed her arms at the slight annoyance, wanting to get out of this place and find her stupid brother. 

Until Zim jerks his head up as if he realized something. He locks his eyes to hers, exclaiming, “You are the Dib-stink’s Gaz-sister!” 

“Nice job, genius. You figured it out,” She rolls her eyes in exasperation at the idiocy. Dib had told her this guy has an inflated ego, much more than he has when he’s too obsessed catching ghosts and aliens, so make sure she’ll have to keep her sarcasm more indistinct to prevent a long useless quarrel like Dib does to their hang-outs. 

“Wait a minute, where’s the Dib?” Zim asks, eyeing around the room. 

“We split up and now he’s trying to look for you,” Gaz simply answered, lifting the metal arm to her shoulder like a delinquent, showing intimidation in case if Zim -as Dib had described- would go hostile. 

The alien cursed in some kind of alien language, slamming his hand at the metal table, making Gir giggle that the table shook underneath him. 

“GIR, I need you to go with the Dib-sister to find Dib-worm. I will have to find my PAK.” Gir saluted with a childish “Yessir!”. Zim acknowledged the gesture and began to climb to the ceiling vent with a little struggle. Gaz had to close her eyes as she just realizes she was looking at the naked body of a male alien. 

And then she spoke, “By the way, I think I may know where your alien tech is. If the Pak or whatever is one of those.” 

The alien stopped midway through crawling out of Gaz’s vision before he landed down again and stomped close to her, looking angry and desperate. “Where is it?!” 

She pointed her thumb behind her, where the door is. “Just turn left and straight to the door labeled “Alien Tech”. You can’t miss it.” She hopes he can’t actually miss it. If the ego isn’t enough to make him stupid, then she doesn’t know what is. 

Before she could make a move, Zim was gone back to the vents, practically shoving himself inside. She can hear the banging of the vent, probably the alien was struggling to crawl faster, but she paid no more mind into it. She felt a tug on her skirt and looked down to face Gir giving her a dopey grin. “Lez go find Mary!” 

Gaz agreed with a nod and ran out of the room with a card in hand, that she had scanned to get out of. Gir was trailer behind her, not slow but not really taking seriously of the alarms ringing around the hallways. “Alright, stay with me and don’t go anywhere. Got it?” She orders sternly, and Gir makes a loud “Okie Dokie!” before they both darted out the room and through the seemingly never-ending hallways.


	15. Here We Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim hunts for the PAK, Gaz is finding mysteries, and Dib is having a confrontation.
> 
> GIR seemed to be having fun.

Dib doesn’t know where he’s going.

After feeling like he ran through a marathon with a series of doors hijacked and break-ins, he felt off-track. Gaz must’ve already found them by now. He heard the speakers repeat on of an alien on the loose. That must’ve been Zim, he was sure. 

But what if she hadn't yet? What if they’re already dead? 

“Don’t think about that right now. Remember Gaz’s words,” He scolded himself, making a mantra of Gaz’s words about focusing the mission only. He can’t give up now, not after all the trouble he had been doing here. All he needs to do is to focus. 

“He’s over there! Get him!” The shouts of the scientists had Dib drifting and dashing to every hallway he could think he’ll lose them. This chase had been going on for a long time that Dib might’ve thought he was getting dizzy because his breath was getting shorter by every step. He needs to find something to stop on, but he won’t evade them in time if he did. 

Not unless… 

“Of course! Duh!” Dib slaps his hand to his forehead, then frantically fumbling for the pockets of the bag while running through random directions. He got what he needed and threw the tiny pebble-like smoke bombs. Instantly, smoke took place everywhere, spreading like wildfire. The boy smirks, going to the door and hacking it immediately, turning the lock off and finally entering the room. He made sure the coast was clear, observing the place. 

The room seemed definitely familiar. The office desk and chair, steel storage drawers, and a conveniently placed water dispenser. 

Dib took a few steps forward, taking a good look at everything. Albeit, his steps were slow and wary, as if he felt like there was something he should avoid. He went to the desk, sifting through a lot of compiled folders.

It was all about aliens. Their different species and different planets. Information about each specimen, and their test progressions. 

Dib looked into it deeper, enthralled that there are more aliens that his father kept in here. Some of them were long captured than Zim had. How long had he passed them by the vents? He could’ve helped them. Or befriend them like he did with Zim’s. How had he not heard screams of these aliens back then? Or even see them at testing rooms? How long had he not heard them? 

The boy felt the guilt and responsibility set heavily on his shoulders. His mind was fuzzy and chaotic again, full of what-if’s or what could’ve. These species had stayed longer and suffered more than Zim’s. Electrical chairs, dissection of their dead bodies, and other torture terms he had named from all of his research on the paranormal (ghosts haunt people for some unexplained reason, right?). 

Dib caught sight of Zim’s folder, signing his status as “Incomplete”. So are a few of them who just arrived, but not as short as Zim’s. While his alien friend had stayed for nearly five months, these “Incomplete” aliens stayed for about a year or two. The selected handful of aliens had been labeled as “Complete”. Those were the aliens that stopped having tests for a long time, unknown to where they may be since this had little information. 

And then he inspects another set of folders. He was palpitating in horror when he focuses all of the alien’s status in the folders.

**[DE** **CEASED]**

The reasons were exaggerations of their testing, too weak on training, and some were nefarious rebellions that resulted in slow and painful execution. 

It made Dib’s stomach twist, feeling nauseated. 

“Dad…” The only word he sputtered out, as the thoughts and betrayal coming into line. The thoughts of “how could you” and “you monster” poured out on that vile word. 

He set aside the folders, closing them off as he tried focusing on other stuff is in here. 

But when he knew the moment he discerned the mug on the desk, he abruptly went still of a second to back away the desk. That was the mug that- 

“Dib Membrane,” A cold, hollow voice echoes the silent room. It sounded almost robotic. 

Dib doesn’t know why that gave him chills running down his spine, the paranoia activating as he wildly looked around for the voice. He should be getting used to echoing voices. He'd been hunting ghosts back then. Maybe it was because of how empty and intimidatingly scary he vocalized it out his name. Or maybe it was because he knew who it belongs, and he didn't like it one bit since _he_ was supposed to be fired from this facility. 

“Why are you here, Mr. Winslow? I thought my dad fired you,” Dib had his attentive eyes wander while he spoke, preparing the staff. 

The man laughed from somewhere that Dib can’t find the direction of the voice’s source. “It’s not me you should be worrying about.” 

He felt a loud thud just behind, turning his head to see Mr. Winslow blocking the door.

The man pulled an elusive smile, along showing out some kind of remote. “It’s you, yourself should be worrying about.” He pressed the remote, and Dib felt the ground trembling.

First, he sees the door covered with another metal door, now entirely locking him in this room. The boy staggers as he whirled his head around him. Parts of the tiled floors are lifting, revealing unnamed figures. Figures that have a diverse set of colors. Green, pink, yellow, everything. Everything that’s supposed to be abnormal to be a human being. 

"Aliens,” Dib mumbled, gawking at the aliens around him, simultaneously raising their heads up, looking straight at him.

An involuntary flinch escaped from him as he disturbingly notices these aliens are the “Complete” status. Their matching pictures fit them perfectly, but some of them changed. They looked nearly dead, eyes blank and some of their bodies bent and cramped in weird places. There are small tracker-like disks, sticking to their foreheads. Dib immediately knew those were the mind controllers Winslow used on them, because he’d seen those before when dad was demonstrating neurotransmitters by mind-controlling his assistant in the Labs. 

The “Complete” aliens meant they’re done with their tests, so that they could be soldiers. 

His dilated, fearful eyes got back to stare at the man, his whole body quivered when he smirked with sinister glee. 

“Let’s see how far can you survive, paranormal investigator,” The man announces with a booming tone, stretching out both of his arms as he somehow got to control the aliens to walk out of the risen tiled floors, going altogether to charge at Dib. 

* * *

Zim kicked down the vent lid, again, but this time it was from another room. He got down roughly, due to his arms and legs not functioning as they used to. Despite that, he made sure there were no people lurking behind Zim’s back. He won’t be fooled by their trickery, not at this time. 

His lifeclock was ticking down to two minutes, his speech and body movement are growing sluggish, wobbly. If he can’t find the PAK in time, soon enough he would be immobilized like a broken mechanical doll. 

The hunt for the right door had Zim going in circles at the time he was still crawling inside the vents. It wasn’t easy to crawl on when panicking over a life-threatening situation he was being put in. He had to avoid some parts of it and take the long way since he spotted several scientists just close to where he was supposed to go. And thus, the reason his wasted minutes on crawling and hiding was, at some point, worth it. 

Now, searching this area for the PAK wouldn’t be hard to get by, knowing well that if it is close to him, it would’ve attached to him by now. But seeing the many technologies, was when Zim recognized they weren’t Irken’s. The good thing is that he does quite remember what these were. Some of them were a part of the Vortians, Meekrobian, and even the Planet Jackers’ weaponry. The list went on. 

Zim was confused. He already had the knowledge that Vortians would have their tech lying around here, but not other races. Are they ganging up against him? Or are they victimized as he had been? 

Whatever it was that they have some of their technology here, he’s not going to wait to figure it out. 

The Irken kept his vigilant eyes scrutinize the room, prioritizing one thing only. Even though his body may have been losing voluntary movement, he could try dragging himself to get where he would want to go, seeing that he couldn’t get up right now. 

To his stroke of luck, he found the objective, which it’s floating inside of a small tank tube, seemingly surrounded by green-looking water. Zim pushes his arms to drag himself closer, watching as the PAK became aware that there’s a host nearby, therefore cracking the glass with the PAK legs. 

And just in time, he hears a door slammed open, displaying a range of robotic scientists waiting for him outside. 

Zim sent them a maliciously smug smirk, right before he felt something fuse to his back, revitalizing the power and energy through his body. 

And then, they began to advance.

* * *

Gaz smacks down yet again a human-robot, leaving it sparks of damaged wires and machinery. She heaves in shortened breaths, not sure how long can she stay her guard up with all of this havoc happening. She later glanced at the small robot with her, who was banging his head at another door, laughing like it was a fun thing to do. 

The girl sighs, picking up the metal arm and plucking the card out of her skirt pocket. She takes Gir’s position in front, making him go behind her. “Stand here and keep a lookout,” She commands, the bot agreed to it easily. 

She scanned the card on the door, gaining access again as it turned green. She turned the knob and pushed it open. 

It wasn’t what she expected she would find. 

There, on a dimly lighted room, were huddled and strapped up people against the wall, gagged and restraint by some metal handcuffs stuck to the walls. 

Every one of them was obviously adults, all looking very malnourished and did not have healthy hygiene. Her eyes located one long tube on each one of them, leading to a large metal tank on the corner. 

Gaz stepped forward, face wrinkled in slight concern and cautiousness. She went to the closest person she can reach. The person was a female, her muscles on her face are too defined and visible, her skin was too pale. The woman looked like she hadn’t seen sunlight or took a bath since Gaz can smell the stench of salty sweats from her distance. Checking out if she was still alive, she kneeled down and poked her finger at the woman’s cheek, feeling the wet surface of the skin and her jaw. 

The woman jolted from her touch, opening her eyes to see Gaz’s empty gaze in front of her, making her yelp in surprise. The girl quieted her with a hush, giving her a narrowed glare. 

“Who did this to you?” Gaz uttered it out unintentionally, supposedly asking it in her mind. Besides, the woman can’t even talk because there’s a metallic gag on her mouth. 

A small part of her had a hunch that it may be dad’s fault. 

The woman sounded like she was choking, she didn’t know if it was an actual cry or lack of air. But Gaz had to guess she can hear and understand well if she responded like that. That was when Gaz had to do something. She won’t leave these people in here. 

Though, her efforts were not in any way useful either. 

Gaz tried using the metal arm to break down the cuffs. Tried scanning the card if it can affect the automatic handcuffs. She even had herself asking Gir for any tools to help with. All she got from him were rubber ducks and disfigured miniature toys. 

She was between calming herself and panicking, not knowing what to do. Dib had always the upper hand in technology (even though he’s dumb half the time in the simplest of things.) and has backup plans if things went wrong.

“Stupid Dib and splitting up.” It was true. Dib’s plan on occupying the places for a fast hunt by splitting up sucks. Dib should’ve known that this would backfire if they have missing equipment for the mission.

But, this was rushed. Uncalled for. They were outnumbered and on a chase, giving no time to plan it all up in Dib’s small spaced brain. So, Gaz could forgive him for this. For now, though. After this, he’s gonna get a beating as a mild punishment. 

“Ugh! Dib, you owe me for this,” Gaz muttered, walking out from the room to meet Gir outside. 

“Gir, come with me and do not wander.” 

“Okie!” Gir salutes like he did with Zim. Gaz looked back at the people, giving them a not-so reassuring smile since she’s not used to giving people comfort. “You guys will be fine. I’ll find a way to get you all out.” 

The responses were the pained moans and fruitless squirming, which triggered Gaz’s tinge of guilt. But she ignored it immediately, always focused on what she’s gonna do, unlike Dib. 

She locked the door, drowning the sounds of pain and misery from the people inside. She could live with it if she can find a way to get them out. She promises. 

Gaz gestured Gir to follow her to the left side of the hallway, that until something happened. 

A sudden crash bursts from the left side, startling Gaz and making Gir cheer. She stopped from running that way, with Gaz had to hold Gir’s hand to keep him from going to the left side of the hall. 

She can see very well that those who crashed there were the robotic scientists, all mangled and wrecked. The wires and the metallic parts were sparking blue bolts, with some of them twitching from the damage endured. 

Then, somebody entered Gaz’s vision. 

“You can’t stop me! The Mighty Irken Zim!” Zim boasted with a shrill dramatic voice. It took Gaz a moment to register that Zim was wearing clothes now. Pink with a thin-lined black striped dress, black gloves, leggings, and boots. It looked like some sort of weird uniform, but what piqued her curiosity was the round object on his back, which were the spider-like metal legs came from.

Zim was hovering above the ground as those spider legs lift him up like support. His devious sharp grin and alien magenta slits made him much more menacing, looming against the robots, who she assumed, he’s the cause of their destruction. 

The alien laughed haughtily, dropping down the floor with ease, the metal legs contracting inside the round thing on his back. He brushed his shoulder with a smug smile, now looking at Gaz. Though, that sick delight faded when he frowned upon her, his eyes searching for something. Or someone. 

“Where is the Dib? Zim thought you would’ve found him by now.” 

Gaz huffed, “You would think that I can find him that easily with a place like this?” 

Zim snickered, walking over to them, “Maybe I have overestimated your competency.” 

It was her turn to twitch in irritation, trying to stop her instinct to punch him right in the face. For now, she deeply sighed in repressed resentment and asked the lingering question in her head, “How’d you get the fancy dress?” 

“Eh, this is no girly dress you speak of. I’ve got my PAK back. It gave Zim this uniform. An Irken uniform, to be specific.” 

“Your species are all female?” 

“What?! No! Incredibly ridiculous, Gaz-sister. Ridiculous thought.” 

“Just saying.” 

Then, she finally thought of an idea now that Zim is here. “Hey, Zim. Can you like, shoot lasers or break metal stuff inside that thing on your back?” 

“It’s a PAK,” Zim corrects, looking slightly insulted. 

Gaz waved it off, “Yeah, Pak or whatever. Can you do it?” 

He snorted back, as if the question was stupid to even ask, “Of course, Zim can do anything!” 

“Great, I need you to break the cuffs.” 

“The cuffs where?” 

Gaz didn’t speak more than that, letting Zim trail behind her as she used the card back at the door where the victims are. The security was off and the door automatically opens. 

She watches his repulsed face when he sees the people in handcuffs. She doesn’t know if he was disgusted with the condition they were in (which is most likely not. After all, he’s egoistic.) or was disgusted with the fact they’re closely similar to the looks of the scientists they were fighting against. 

“Can you help them out?” 

“Why?” Zim stared at her incredulously. 

“They’re innocent, Zim.” 

“Pfft, as if!” 

Feeling the boiling blood rising from her inside since she's half-panicking, she just snatched the pink tunic and yanked closer to her, glaring daggers at his petrified face. She has quite an anger management issues, after all. 

It’s funny how effortless she can threaten people with just her face. Even an alien is scared witless. 

“You _will_ break those cuffs and help them. Just as much as _Dib_ helped you,” She growls, tightening her grip on the collar of the uniform. Zim tried his best to not show vulnerability, but it won’t last if she can use physical threats for another option of convincing. The lasted minutes of glares and pained sounds in the background made Zim push himself away from the tension, Gaz allowing to do so as she softened her grip. Zim glances at the people then at Gaz with an unreadable expression. She doesn’t know much about body language, but she can tell was the confliction on his face says something about the statement Gaz said about Dib. 

Until later, he groans in frustration and begrudgingly accepts, “Fine! But don’t come crying to me when they end up being dead by those robots outside.” 

“Fair enough.”

* * *

If he imagined that being a paranormal investigator would be a heroic thing to do, then he needs to re-evaluate his life choices. 

But he won’t do that. Not since he had been doing this for his whole lifetime. The purpose of it is to explore something new. Something that it’s unusual and unknown to everyone that they could’ve known. 

This ambition was to become something else like no one has ever seen. To be something that they can recognize their efforts with. Something that’ll blow their minds with all of the new and uncommon discoveries. 

He wanted something new. 

Or was it something else? 

Was it just a phase that one look-a-like goth child loves ghost and horror stuff that their first dream was to become a ghostbuster? 

Or was it a craving for the approval for something he was so passionate about? 

Well, whatever it is, Dib does know one thing. 

He’s a child with a future. And that was being part of the paranormal. Because it’s his dream. No adult can change that. No _parent_ would ever change that. 

At least, not until he is getting pummeled by every alien he wants to read on, then maybe he’ll think about going for an astronomy course instead.

Right now, he was getting thrown like a ragdoll. A sharp crack broke on his spine as he was hurled to the wall, his head may be having more concussions than the last many concussions he had for the past years. The alien who threw him was a buff one, bigger and taller than any human. It had razor-sharp teeth and claws, rough skin of scales that painted royal purple, and menacing deep blue eyes. It wore a suit of white that surprisingly fits for it since it was buff, and the clothing looked like it was about to be rip off from its muscular size. The alien from the folders was called something, but Dib didn’t look into it that much. Just the test progressions and their status. 

The purple alien roared, and he was being picked up again. Dib struggled with getting himself out, but the grip was too tight that sometimes he can’t breathe from his small stature of a child. His bag and weaponry were sadly nowhere to be seen. He may have forgotten about them because he was busy fighting off several aliens trying to beat him down like a bloody pulp. He really had to breathe deeply under his mouth keep him from losing air.

Though, this time he was shoved against the ground, making him cry loudly in pain. He was then held down, with a lot of hands and arms pressing him further. 

It’s a mystery as to why he’s still conscious. 

He messily and desperately gasped, a mix of saliva and blood dripping to the floor, and the heavy headache that may cause sickness is coming over him, pressuring him to lose consciousness even more. 

He coughed up the liquid filling on his mouth, seeing the blood spilled from it, made him sicker than before. 

The next minutes of causing pain had him staying there, staining his face with the two kinds of liquid he made. Then, from his blurry vision, (since he lost his glasses somewhere after all of that throwing and dodging) a pair of black leather shoes came into view. The top of those was a defined feature of a man. Not just any man, though. Dib knew well enough that he doesn’t need to see him with the glasses. The man was smiling, that it looked almost encouraging if it weren’t for the fact he started this entire beating-a-kid-by-mind-controlled-aliens operation. 

“Are you enjoying it?” Winslow’s honeyed voice made him want to spit the mixed blood and water to his sickening face. Instead, he whined to escape the immense pain from his bones feeling about to break. 

“Stop it,” Dib cried in desperation, his awareness on reality dwindling so as long as the alien kept pressing its weight on him. His face creased into a tearful expression, trying to choke back the sobs of defeat and hopelessness. He was trapped here, Zim was probably long dead from something they must’ve used his weakness. Gir must’ve been turned into their own servant, using that innocent robot into something deadly. Those two didn’t deserve these months of torment. 

He took long five seconds to notice the heaviness above him was reducing, and he peered behind him. The alien stood up like a soldier, eyes staring at a straight direction, looking at nowhere. Dib panted from the exhaustion, teeth clenched and hands lifting up his elbows to get back to his feet. That felt gradually slow. The cogs on his brain weren’t turning as it used to, not giving him the mental capacity to be able to sense the numbness and ache of his arms, not being able to see or hear what was outside of his wrecked mind and body. 

He was going halfway on rising up from the floor, until someone’s rough-textured hand grasped his wet chin, raising his head with gentle care. But the hand made him feel a reflex to flinch away from it. His mind wouldn’t work but he can descry the man’s face, who owns the hand holding him. Dib only made a slight tilt to get away from the face of the man who seemed to take pleasure at the suffering of a child. 

“I thought you’d be satisfied, young boy. These are the responsibilities of being a paranormal investigator. There’s always danger you can’t expect that it would be happening. That’s the beauty of the paranormal, Dib,” He explains with a sickly sweet tone like a father would tell a story to their children. 

Dib protested, still regaining his ability to think and go in labored breaths, “You don’t know how paranormal works.” 

Winslow darkly chuckled back, “And you do?”

“No. No one does,” He says in a breathy tone, his tears that shed were ignored at the time he turned his expression to a cold and distant one. 

“So stubborn,” He snarls. Instantly, he had been thrown down the ground once more, making Dib scrunch and twist from the sensation of the spine twinging in pain. 

Dib shortly yet sharply inhaled, the wind knocked right out of his lungs. He can make out the dull gray-looking ceiling from his half-lidded vision, and a shoe that stomped against his chest. The chest where the recent patched injury about the gash and the broken ribs.

A slight push of the shoe made Dib cry in agony, shuddering from the ribs suffering from a man’s shoe. He squirmed to get out of it, but at the same time, it increases the compression, making it difficult to use force against this since he was already losing the vitality to do it. He can see the black spots visualizing, eyes feeling heavy-lidded now, and the mouth running down the wet saliva. Or maybe blood. Who cares? 

He feels numb, yet he feels a searing hot pain from the gash re-opening, and the ribs aching very hard like a boulder had fallen down five feet to just hit straight to his whole body. He wanted to faint out, not urging himself to keep resisting his consciousness alive and well. He wanted to bawl his eyes out, cry for someone he can hug on. Cry for someone to comfort him. Because, at the end of the day, he’s just an eight-year-old little boy who is a fanatic of an unidentified phenomenon that barely anyone believes in. 

He even wondered, _like a normal boy would_ , how does having a mother feel like. Because he really needs one right now. 

“Let me tell you something you can’t comprehend, kid,” He snapped, propping his one arm to the leg bent down, which was the leg pressing it to his injury. This sent Dib whining and whimpering even harder, biting his lip from the throbbing pain of the ribs and the gnawing feeling of his skin. He tries using his small hands to force the foot away from his chest, even though it was blatantly futile. 

“Stop playing the hero.” 

Dib’s head snapped up at him with a combination of hurt and angry expression. 

“Did you think saving Zim would cure your guilt? Hilarious,” Winslow laughed dryly. 

“It’s not guilt,” Dib choked it out from the water and blood filling in his mouth. “He’s my friend.” 

The man grimaces, looking disappointed, “Then, you have a poor choice of picking this one.” 

_CRACK_

“GAH!” Dib cried again, this time louder and the tears are profusely dropping down. His hands gave up on taking on the shoe. 

“Zim won’t be able save you.” 

_CRACK_

Dib was screaming now, with a mix of sobbing and choking. His vision was being surrounded by the black spots filling his eyes. He can’t see the man or the ceiling that much, but the silhouettes are there. It was then Dib realized that this wasn’t like some game to be meddled with. He thought he could do like from those heist movies. That he could survive like those protagonists. He thought wrong. 

_I’m_ _gonna_ _die_

Dib’s thoughts sunk deep, thinking already that it may happen soon enough. For the first time in all of his lifetime of injuries, this was he feared the most. Death. 

It was for the first time, he finally had the true fear evident in his eyes, scared and cowered like a little child that he might actually _die._

He was scared of Winslow than ever. 

“Your dad and sister won’t make it in time.” 

_CRACK_

He doesn’t know why he’s still alive. He’s hurting too much, he could’ve passed out. He should’ve _died. W_ _hy is he still alive-?_

Dib was on a verge of tears, panic, and stress. He wants it to stop. He kept whimpering and crying, shrieking on the top of his lungs. He felt himself trembling from the pain. He can’t breathe. He wants it to stop. _Why won’t it stop-_

_I_ _wanna_ _die, please, just stop it and let me die! Dad, please help_ _me_ _,_ _please I can’t breathe_ _-_

“And you can’t even save yourself.” 

There wasn’t another crack of the bones, but rather a numb feeling of a sharp metal object pointing right at his forehead. He can’t see anymore, the black aura has already overshadowed his whole view. It could be anything. But it felt like it was just a simple knife. He can still hear the man’s words, though more jumbled but understandable.

“You need training, boy. Crying your whole heart out isn’t gonna help you. You’re being too soft. If you learn to toughen up, maybe you can-“

In a flash, something entered the party. 

A loud resounding crash and an ear-piercing screech can be heard, from going near Dib's laid form to the far side of the wall, hearing a painful thud at the end. And that screech was verily familiar, but he paid no heed to it now that he was free from the pressure of the shoe. Dib tried opening his eyes, shimmering lights of the ceiling blind him too much that he had to forcefully blink hard to open it up again. And when that happened, there were loud and shrill chatters and reverberating screams of fury and anger. 

“HOW DARE YOU TRY AND KILL ME!” 

Though there were some that are muffled, he can perfectly hear that ear-piercing voice anywhere. 

Filled with the morbid sense of desperate curiosity, he slowly tilts his head to prove he wasn’t hallucinating voices, despite his nauseated feeling. And there he is, fully clothed with the presumably, pink uniform that he had been gushing about wanting it back. The most important object that he needed is right there, stuck behind his back that extends the metal spider-like legs like he said it would. And the one that really paid off was the boisterous laughter echoing the room. 

It’s Zim. It’s him! 

His mind was running through a plethora of emotions, altogether saying different things on the situation at hand. He was hurt because the ribs were sore very badly. He was distressed and teary-eyed from a near life-threatening situation that had just taken place. He was relieved it was gone, the insufferable pain is gone and now it’s just getting sore and aching. He was happy that _Zim_ is still alive. He got his stuff back and _he’s_ alive. He felt like laughing, because he didn’t fail him. 

And then, he felt like passing out. If he did, though, he may not wake up at all. 

He watches the fight with an extreme struggle on keeping himself awake, forcing the lungs to breathe in so much air as he didn’t feel like he was instinctively breathing anymore. He sees the man failing to dodge the blow from Zim’s fist and straight-up broke his jaw. The Pak legs were able to keep Zim level to Winslow’s height, enabling him the opportunity to take on his towering height of a human. The Invader took another move to kick him at the shin, but this time Winslow clutched his small boot and he threw the alien away with an unimaginable force from somewhere Dib can’t see. Fortunately, he heard the irate grumbles from Zim, meaning he’s still fine. 

The man’s head turned to him, which made Dib jolt from the atmosphere feeling colder than the previous minutes of a burning feeling from his gash. When the silhouetted man was becoming bigger from his field of vision, Dib soon realized the man was coming towards him. 

Fear and terror skyrocketed, making Dib squirm away from his position and crawl far from this man’s grasp. He doesn’t want another shoe on his chest. He doesn’t want that kind of pain back again. 

He can’t speak, his own voice feeling scratchy and too much effort. Rather, he spurted out his blood from the mouth, drooling down on his other cheek. He blearily focused his pupils at the man, who seemed walking closer to him than before. 

He tries crying for help. 

But he didn’t need to do that, because at that point Zim came back from the battle and hurtled the man farther from Dib. The boy sighs in half-relief, resting his head down the damp floor and closes his eyes. He just wishes all of this panicking and straining comes to a close. 

He sensed someone’s hand, specifically a claw, touching his shoulder, shaking it gently, and calling out his name. Or maybe roughly, due to his numbing phase. 

He steadily unlatched his eyelids, his eyesight suddenly clearing itself out. He can make out the green and pink colors. It was talking, and sounding like Zim. 

“Get up, Urth boy! Get your human noodle legs and arms up!” Zim grabbed both of his shoulders, shaking them frantically. Dib gurgled instead of actually making a coherent speech, knowing it’ll fail. He wants to say to him that he can make it, but he won’t do it properly since everything feels like they’re hurting. 

Dib sees the exasperated alien hoist him up to his arms, being carried like a baby (which is very embarrassing. He was pretty sure Zim was too.) and felt like a whip of air hit him immediately. It’s like he was flying, which did happen. He flinched from the chest being bent and held while he’s being carried, but gladly Zim didn’t drop him off, only putting his gloved hands to lift his knees and underneath his upper body, letting his other arm hanging in the air and his head rest against the alien’s hard yet somehow warm chest that’s not bleeding like his. He slightly spun his head to the other side, seeing the ground under them and spider legs moving altogether.

When Dib moaned from the aching body, he saw a glimpse of something overcasting the lighting from his sight. Opening more of his eyes, he caught an object just in time it’s been dropped from a Pak leg. Dib discerned it, and it was identified to be his stun gun from those months ago. 

“Use that if you wanna be not totally useless, Dib-stink,” Zim spoke up, all the while busy blasting something from behind despite not looking back. 

They were dashing through the narrow hallways, seemingly avoiding every alien coming to stop in their way. Well, it was mostly Zim’s blasters from his Pak and his combative skills on taking them out, Dib gave some effort to just stun a few of them down at the front. Although, his lacking clarity on eyesight and the feeling of tiredness of his body, he can manage to keep up with assisting Zim to make sure they evade these other aliens. And Winslow. 

Especially Winslow. 

Because from what he’s peering behind Zim’s arm, was Winslow getting in front of every alien chasing them. He wasn’t running, but he had some sort of octagonal hovering platform that ignites thrusters below of it, allowing him to glide faster than the aliens running behind. 

Mouth agape, he struggles with getting the gun, but he can’t focus on aiming it at him due to Zim going twists and turns from each hallway. 

“Where is the exit of this horrid place?!” Zim shouts, his voice going on a panic. Dib bit his lip for concentration, his tired hand giving it all to keep it steady. At the same time, he noticed the specific hallway they were in and finally replies to Zim, “Go for two lefts then straight forward.” He never really bothered how his hoarse voice sounded, until he felt the throat itching from it. 

“How’d-?”

“Trust me!” 

The invader grumbled in response and turned quickly to the left. 

Dib almost dropped the gun when they both felt trembling. He looked to Zim, sheepishly confused that Irkens have audible organ grumbling. “Was that you?” 

All of a sudden, an explosion just occurred. 

And it was just beside them. 

Dib saw in a short second as the door just beside them explode. Zim’s Pak legs staggered that Dib instinctively gripped on Zim’s tunic to prevent him from accidentally letting go of his hold. Luckily, the alien has the practice of using his own technology, so he didn’t fall down from the explosion and he held him tighter, cocooning him away from the explosion. Dib had to set aside the awkwardness emanating from this near-hugging and also had to keep his eyes on his stun gun, readying himself if Winslow ever comes to them to sabotage the race to the exit. 

The ground is still in tremors, feeling like the ceiling will crash down on them. Which it will at some point since Dib sees the concrete on the ceiling cracking. 

“What did you do, you putrid Vortian?!” Zim yelled from behind. And Dib went to raise his eyebrows at him.

_Vortian?_

“Who-“ 

“Self-destruction of the IGE. If this crumbles down, so will the Membrane Labs.” 

“What?!” Dib blurted out, jostling Zim that he got nearly tripped from something. The boy meekly apologized before wheeling his head -with a massive headache, mind you- to send Winslow a petrified glare. “You’ll die along with us!” 

“Better than you two surviving,” A frenzied laugh and a murderous stare at the boy caused him to falter his glare. 

“You’re insane!” Zim exclaims. Dib agrees without hesitation. 

They finally arrived at where they were supposed to go, the elevator. The best part was that it’s open. 

Zim swiftly went inside and started blasting more on the enemies whilst Dib was rapidly smashing his fingers against the button. 

The worst part though, is that the elevator wasn’t working. 

“It’s not working,” Dib stammered, agitated, and looking at the Irken for anything in the need of any orders on how to get out of here. But Zim had the same expression as he focused on blasting the aliens outside, unable to respond back. They were getting closer, and that sent Dib panicking even more, the depleted energy restoring fast as his heartbeat went to a hysteria. 

He tried looking for another way out, eyes hysterically scanning everything. And then he caught his eye on the door brackets on the ceiling. 

“Up there, Zim. The trapdoor,” Dib calls it out, his finger pointing atop of them. Zim glanced at him and above him for a second before they went flying again, Zim bending the Pak legs to make momentum to jump high up. 

Dib was huddled up against Zim as it happened, successfully not hitting himself by the head with the trapdoor. He hoped that Zim wouldn’t get a concussion from hitting his head on the door, or else they’ll really get caught on this chase. Zim takes his one arm away from Dib’s head, that as a result he almost stumbled to drop down but managed, wrapping his own arms to Zim’s collar while he carries his legs from falling. Zim’s hand was reaching the metal rope of the elevator, to keep them from also falling both of them. The alien stuck his actual legs to the rope, gaining leverage to keep them at hold from falling down. From a third-person perspective, one would think this position is similar to the movie Dib had reluctantly watched, Tarzan. Where in this situation Zim is the Tarzan hanging to a jungle vine and he is roleplaying the Mary Jane, the damsel in distress. He felt himself fluster in embarrassment as to why he compared it to that, silently hiding his face to Zim’s chest as he does all of the work to get them up. 

The next part is the Pak legs were the only tech that helped them out as these things were magnetically crawling on the walls with precision and ease like a real spider would. The alien lets go of the rope and pull Dib out of his collar, putting him back to where he’s supposed to lay on. Dib was shying away from the short-lived glare from the alien, who he was complacent on unintentionally cuddling himself to. After that, it amazes Dib that Zim could do this with his metal legs that defy gravity trying to pull them down. Then again, he’s an alien from outer space with possibly many interesting and foreign technologies that Dib could squeal about. 

Dib prepared his stun gun just as the aliens immediately demolished the top part of the elevator, bursting out a horde of aliens climbing the shaft. But no one got close to them since they only climb with their hands and feet. 

No one except for Winslow and his hovering platform. 

And he was gaining on them, the aliens are falling behind as they crept closer to the top. 

Fortunately, Dib was already aiming the stun gun at him, quickly pulling the trigger. 

It shot Winslow straight on the head, making him stumble from his platform. He reached the edge of it, making him fall instead of them. Dib smiled in victory. Although, that was short-lived. 

He was hanging onto the platform as he dangles on it, and he wasn’t _immobilized_ as he backed himself up to his transportation, now his turn to smile at the boy’s shocked face. 

Dib swore he shot him. He wondered how did he get to elude the paralysis. 

He had a humiliating realization that the stun gun was adjustable. And he forgot to put it on extreme electric shock. 

He watches as Winslow pressed something from his wrist. The platform gave out a small missile on the one tiled floor, ready to launch at them. Just in time, they’ve arrived at the locked elevator door to the Labs. 

“Zim, watch out!” Dib screams, but he was far too late when the missile already thrusts to their direction. 

It was all in a white blur in a second it blows.

* * *

Zim did not know how the blast would be able to take on an Irken’s pain tolerance. But he was pretty glad that the PAK legs were able to make a reflexive stance to shield the owner, taking the hit on them instead of him and the Dib. 

And it was at that moment, he thought he lost the PAK at the explosion. 

As he unceremoniously crashed on the floor with a cry, he felt the back of his body sizzle. He rubbed his head and grunted in pain, gritting his teeth in order to make sure he won’t cry out loud that much. He can feel the vibration of the ground, trembling and cracking each passing second. He viewed the area, noticing the place was in the mayhem of fallen concrete and fire, which is everywhere. How did the _fire_ get here in the first place? He was sure he didn’t give that Gaz-human a flamethrower on the way to get her out of the underground. The likely possibility was that these humans have too many inflammable materials that they didn’t bother to make it non-flammable. Most likely, they do have those, because most of these humans are plain idiots. 

Forgetting the place is in shambles, he first checked his antennae if they were fine. And lucky enough, they were twitching and can still fully hear everything, in spite of that explosion that just happened. He looked on his back, seeing the PAK malfunctioning as it sparks electricity. Some of the legs got broken and separated from the PAK. Only a few of them were still intact to the tech, but there weren’t moving or working at all. Zim stared at the mess of his PAK, horrified that one small missile broke through the legs that were supposed to be indestructible. 

He hears the whirring of silent thrusters just in front of him, and turned to face the Winslow on his flying floor. He seemed pleased, too pleased that Zim sneered at his disgusting face. 

“You should’ve stayed in that tank.” 

Zim escaped a low guttural sound, absolutely livid. This Vortian _dared_ to destroy his most important object. He’s really gonna maim him now. 

“And you should’ve stayed in the underground,” And just as Zim said the words, he quickly pounced on the ‘human’, taking away the privilege of being in his platform. They both fell in a heap of battle with fire inflaming and the building about to crumble down. Zim gets the upper hand when he took the pounce on him first, going on top of him and punching him repeatedly like a punching bag. It didn’t last forever (Though, he wished it would’ve just to get the satisfaction of smacking the smug look on his face.) when the Winslow was able to catch up to his fists, holding one of them then raising his other hand to knock him up on his chin. 

Zim scrambled away, glaring at him with great disdain. He felt his chin break as he held it. 

The ‘human’ toppled Zim before he can make any move by pinning him down by holding both of his arms to the ground with his hands. He felt himself arching on his back because the PAK sounded like it wasn’t doing well. So, Zim has other ideas of getting out of his grip. 

He eyed at the ‘human’ with his usual malicious smirk and _bit_ the right arm, eliciting a shriek from the Vortian. Not only deep bite to his skin, but it was where his ‘watch’ resided. 

Effectively, he accidentally released Zim as he clenched his wrist. Zim stares as the ‘human’ was changing form. The pixelated tan skin and black clothing turned into a dull grey tone and a Vortian uniform. His eyes formed back to its original purple color, shaping them circularly, and the horns were back from his head.

“Why you little-“ 

He didn’t give him the time to speak up, getting to his feet and swiftly sliding his boot to his feet, making him tumble to the ground. It was Zim’s turn, again, to attack the undisguised Vortian. But since he is actually as much as competitive like him, they were rolling on the floor, trying to beat on who is really the superior between an Irken and a Vortian. 

Apparently, Zim had been apprehended foolishly. First by a punch to one of his ocular implants that it malfunctions his eyesight. He was about to gouge out the other alien’s eyes for that until he got flipped over. Now, his front is on the floor, his arms were restrained on the back the Vortian kept his grip on him, feeling him squeeze his arms as he attempted on wriggling his way out. He can sense the cracks beneath him growing while the Vortian kept him down. 

He tremendously blames this by the Vortian’s advantage on his height. 

“No use on squirming, Irken,” The enemy huffed and puffed his chest out, all the while grinning like a mad man with crazed eyes. “I’ll make sure you won’t ever get out of here alive,” He threatened gravely. 

Suddenly, Zim twinged in pain when he felt the malfunctioning PAK leg detach. A screech blew right from his mouth, spewing Irken curses. He struggled to twist his head behind him, already knowing that the Vortian used the end stick of the leg as his weapon, which was exceptionally sharp and pointed. 

Zim went berserk with wriggling himself out, grunting and hurting that this other alien was crushing his body. 

“Say goodbye to your Almighty Tallests,” He mockingly growled at his one antenna, which Zim also gave him a growl, but much more animalistic and monstrous.

While he had both of his arms to just one hand, he raised his other, where the PAK leg is, now tying to aim at his head. His wide-eyed gaze at it leads himself to terror. Terrified that he might die, right here. Right now. 

And he didn’t even save the Dib from danger. 

_Wait_ -

As if everything happened like a lightning strike, Zim heard a pained cry. Then, feeling the heavy weight landed over his body. More like a body beneath his body. Zim hastily pushed the body away from him, sending a revolted look at the Vortian’s body having sporadic twitching. 

He searched for the person who stunned the other alien. And the eyes landed on the laid form of a young child. 

Zim hurriedly ran to the Dib, seeing the boy in a worse state than he has. He was dribbling out the red and transparent liquid, knowing that was blood and saliva, from what the Dib-meat’s had informed him. He had also his blood seeping through the shirt, not much but dangerously and possibly fatal if not medicated. He checked him if he’s still alive by shaking him as gently as he could (it’s wasn’t as gently as he would think it would be). Just then, he noticed that the boy’s hand was just close to the stun gun. He picked it up and put it on the Dib’s pocket. 

Dib stirred from his unconsciousness and slowly turned his human eyes at Zim’s poorly hidden, dreaded face. The alien silently sighed in relief when the brat groaned, trying to get up, to which Zim rolled his own eyes and easily carried him again. This sent Dib to make a pained sound, clutching and wrapping his arms to his chest. Zim remembered that the stinking Vortian almost killed him by the chest, which he’s gonna give that one to him later when he gets this stupid Dib-idiot out of here. 

Zim gazed upon the trembling building while he balances himself and the Dib from the floor already about to break down. He wildly looked everywhere for a clear way out. He didn’t observe the whole area as they were on the middle floor of the building. He rushed to the labeled ‘fire exit’, but all it gave him was a falling concrete just in front of him, almost hitting him in the process if it weren’t for his fast reflex. Zim was verily alarmed, panicked even. He tried going for the other kind of elevator, but the fire and metal scraps were blocking the door, and it was rising as the building keeps falling apart. He may live if he gets past the fires, but the Dib-stink’s human body is a liability for it to work. 

His mind was madly wandering the different outcomes if they stayed in here without any help or an exit. There is a possibility he could make it out alive, should this whole structure falls. Though, that’s minimal. 

The Dib, however… 

He had come to know that humans are too fragile. They can’t handle small explosions and blasts without their exaggerating heavy armors. Even some of them can’t deal with criticism. The Dib had already gone through a near-death experience back when he clawed his chest if it weren’t for GIR’s assistance. As well as today, now mumbling incoherent speeches and wrapping the bleeding torso. And the fact that Dib-stink is a smeet, makes it a harder chance of his survival. Or will never have a chance at all. 

Zim dashes to the nearby door that wasn’t in flames. He entered and slammed the door shut. He shortly observed the room. It looked like a laboratory full of chemicals, although none of the containers seemed filled with liquid. There were preposterous containers like those swirling glass tubes and ridiculously large vials. The ceiling looked like it was about to fall and break, and the walls were immensely cracked. He ignored what’s more in here and his sight is locked on the window on the far side of the room, not crumbling yet, no glass, and perfect for an escape from this place. There are some other windows, but those have their floor breaking apart. That window is fine enough, he’ll deal about the landing later. Right now, they have to leave. 

Zim sprinted to their escape, eager and focused on the window only. He held the Dib tighter, despite the incomprehensible protests and the winces of pain. He reaches for the window’s sill, preparing for a strong leap. 

Until someone lunged at him, messily crashing down the ground, again. 

Zim rolled away as someone tackled him away from the Dib, who also roughly rolled down, hearing his groaning and whimpering from his antennae. 

The Vortian on top of him had his breathing hard, staring down at Zim, grimacing and fuming fervently. Zim had a two-second shock on his face and turned to ferociously thrash from the other alien’s grip. The question laid later about how the Vortian was able to beat the paralysis of the stun gun, since he was certain he looked dead when he was shot. The electricity could’ve killed him… 

If it had its maximum power. Is the stun gun adjustable? 

For a short eye view of the area, he saw the stun gun had been dropped away from Dib-meat’s pocket, now just beside the unconscious boy. Immediately, he boots the midsection of the other alien’s body, making him loosen his grip as he grunted, looking tempted to cradle his midsection. Zim goes for the face again, this time scratching the face than using fists, enabling to push him aside and get the stun gun right away. 

“Oh no, you’re not!” Winslow-Vortian screamed out angrily, suddenly a hand grabbed on his boot, catching him off guard that he got tripped. He knew what was behind him, and he’s not waiting for it to reach his objective at hand. Zim kicks the hand from his foot, hurting the owner in the process, growling at the pain. Zim didn’t hesitate to dart towards the gun. 

Then, the ground collapsed underneath him and Winslow. The floor, where the stun gun is, fell into fragments. Zim had no choice as the floor on him began plunging down the lower floors. He painfully crashed at a massive plate of concrete along with a lot of small rocks hitting his head, groaning in a tinge of frustration. Zim regained his composure and looked up at the previous floor he was in. The whole previous floor he was on collapsed, only dropping some big plates of the ceiling as some of them put out the fire.

It meant the Dib-stink was involved in the fall. 

And there he spotted the Dib’s unconscious body sandwiched by a lot of small boulders. 

Zim had his mouth agape, automatically breaking to another sprint, passing the flames surrounding him that it may have caused him some burns. However, his mind was uncharacteristically clouded with thoughts of saving the foolish stink boy, seeing earlier he was already in a dangerous condition to live this long. 

The Irken hurriedly pushed off the boulders off the body, the growing panic kept his strength going to lift this putrid concrete from the stupid brat. When the boulders were reduced, he has the chance to drag the Dib out of the tight space. He picked him up from the crumbling floor and frantically looked everywhere. 

The lower floor had more windows and fires than the hallways back then on the top floor. It had literal scaffolding falling and breaking the cracking ground due to the widespread of the orange burning flames. Zim had no problem with smokes that much, but he would if it would go far, which was happening right now. He coughed from him breathing in the black ashes, propping Dib up to his arms properly before running past the crackling fires to get to the nearest window. 

A sudden figure entered from his sideways sight, quickly noticing a fist about to knock him out. Zim halted and dodged it, making him back up from the window. He glowered as the Winslow-Vortian was still standing, who is injured and bleeding mildly from the collapse of the floor. He was heaving a lot of toxic air here, which he didn’t seem to mind as long as he gets much air as possible. Furthermore, he was blocking his way to an escape. That’s not all, though. It would seem that the universe hates the mighty Irken Zim, because their only escape left was blocked by making another collapse of a steel plank that was with a lot of flammable machinery. He can’t go and make it to the other windows since he knew this relentless alien would catch up and get him down before he makes any move to flee. It can also mean the Dib would’ve been flung away from his grasp again and maybe probably dead from too much damage on his fragile large head hitting the ground several times.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Winslow breathed, eyes twitching from what it seemed a tired irritation. 

Zim glances back and forth from the Vortian to the window. It was then he got an idea. 

And by some coincidental chance, a sudden tremor made both opponents tumble from their offensive and defensive stances. 

He used that opportunity to run past from the other alien, seemingly distracted for a second until he noticed him passing, missed when grabbing Zim. The Irken jumped across the pile of scaffolding and covered Dib as much as he could provide.

Time slowed down. 

He doesn’t know how would the dirt boy land for safety. He was basically killing him by himself. This effort would mean nothing if it did. 

But when he saw the flash of a white coat and its tall figure that he was familiarized with, zooming through the air from the distance, he knew he would be safe. 

Thus, by a foot or two apart from the opened window, he let himself abruptly halt from his steps. 

For a quick millisecond, he sent Dib-stink flying straight for the window, completely throwing him out of the deteriorating building. 

Then, he was tackled down by Winslow at the time it happened. 

Just in time for another floor to break into pieces. 

And both instantaneously fell with the many enormous concrete, steel, and bits of flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I wanted this to be the last chapter, but it's long and I want some cliffhanger.


	16. What To Do Now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Membrane family is in for recovery. But Dib is handling the stages of grief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is the last chapter.

It was at that horrific moment, he had lost his children. The moment his firstborn walked out from his sight, tore his whole world like a piece of paper. And when he saw his youngest, the one who entrusted his orders to be responsible of. Or the one only child that still admired him had finally turned her back and rebelled. He should’ve known this was coming. The way his children were distant from him and the recent tensions between him and his son. He was being a coward. He didn’t fix himself or his children. 

He was only trying to prevent their cycle of fates. Particularly, his son’s. He shouldn’t have gone attached to that Irken. He shouldn’t have let him live just for Science. He shouldn’t have let Dib go paranormal hunting every night just to make him happy. He’s really trying to be a better parent, but Dib was the one making it difficult for him. He won’t lose a family member again, now that he’s uncertain that those aliens inside the facility may have known the secrets. Especially, if that Irken knows about the secrets. 

And he couldn’t let Dib know, because it would devastate him, now that he had befriended an alien. He wanted to tell him about it when he’s mature enough, but that wasn’t happening anytime soon until the alien dies. Dib would move on and deal with the truth by the time he’s in his teenage years. 

Or it may not happen if Dib saves that alien first. 

For the longest time of musing on the past, he finally got his nerves to twitch his robotic fingers, having thought of an idea. 

“Foodio 3000! Come here and bring me the Botulism antitoxin from the syringe,” Membrane called with an authoritative tone. Soon enough, he was hearing a panicky robot rummaging in his personal lab down the basement. He had been laying here for like a millennium had passed, maybe the most likely ten minutes at best. Doing nothing but contemplating his life choices of being a bad parent. But that doesn’t matter now. His kids need him, even though they don’t see it. And maybe he needs them, because there is a hole that Laureen left when she passed. After all, they’re children. 

And he has some apologizing to do, if he can save them in time. 

Hopefully, in time. 

Something whizzed in front of him, a rolling robot of a rectangular microwave as its body, and had a chef’s hat for the head. It held a syringe already containing the antitoxin. He was quite proudp of himself that he successfully mixed the compound Nitrophenyl psoralen and hydroxocobalamin for both cure on neural paralysis and the safety from the side effects of NPP (and the deficiency on vitamins since, somehow his son modified his taser to actually tranquilize the target so they will fall asleep overtime.) respectively. 

“Foodio, I need you to put the syringe on my hand, hurry.” 

“Uh-sir, you can’t move, remember?” Foodio meekly said, though it complied just as he ordered it to. Membrane forced the few of his nerves that were involved in the robotic limbs to get his hand to grab the syringe. Since Foodio doesn’t have the capability of having five hands to carefully inject this to his other arm, he will have to take care of this on his own. Minutes were wasted while the robot watches him struggle with the syringe. That until he heard an alarm blaring below his basement. 

It wasn’t an ordinary alarm for the intruders inside his house. 

But that was a specific school-like alarm that meant someone infiltrated inside IGE. And he knew who were the ones got in there. 

He moved his nerves more, now horribly forcing it to activate the limbs. 

Fortunately, it got to work the hand to inject the syringe to the nearest paralyzed part of his body, the waist. He grunted as he pushed the handle in, putting the liquid inside his bloodstream. It wasn’t hurting as he expected it to be, rather a slight shock to his body as it will slowly regenerate the nerves back to full power. 

But it was irksome to wait. He wasn’t happy his antidote for the paralysis wouldn’t make it faster, but that was all he could do for the time being. He never really prepared for this to occur in the first place. He thought he could have more time that Dib’s rebellion is slowly growing visible. 

But he underestimated his tendencies to fight back, seeing that he had a friend for the first time in a long time. He could see why and it makes total sense he would do it tonight. 

The professor audibly groaned at himself for being a disappointment. A father should know what his kids were doing and their antics. However, like he said earlier, he was neglectful. 

It took several distressing minutes of a worried parent to finally put the nerves all back to operate, giving Membrane to move every part of his body. 

He jumped from his laid position and dropped the syringe walking over to the front door. He clapped twice to turn off the alarm inside the basement, and told Foodio to stay put. 

“Wh-Where are you going, sir?” Foodio stuttered, not as cheerful as before. 

He sideways glanced at his creation, giving him his determined look. “Saving my children.” 

And then, he initiated the thrusters on his boots, zooming past the neighborhood as he sped up the ignition. 

He balanced his weight from the thrusters by lining his body to a diagonal, rising as he reaches the end of the troposphere. The speed on his boots is a little exasperating, due to the fact Dib is mostly in trouble for death and Gaz could be mildly but still injured. 

His mind was swirling on the calculated consequences that’ll arise for him and his children. Dib is one troublemaker if he were to be too stubborn, that it could cause commotion every time he does something. Either the IGE would be barren with escaped aliens or traumatized scientists. It would be probable, but Dib could do so much more if he puts his whole heart into it, which it may have. 

Gaz has little problems with his records. Although, if she did rebel on him meant she could do the same as Dib, but slightly more mature than him. She would just help Dib on small occasions since he had seen Gaz’s usual resentment against her brother, however, this was different. Gaz volunteered to do their little mission, helping Dib fully when she did not fight back while his son tasered him. She could be part of the problem if the chances are high of her rebelliousness. When push comes to shove, she can wreak havoc as much as Dib does. 

Membrane almost staggered his feet, which could've resulted in an imbalance on the thrusters and accidentally plunge down the ground. When he got back to the direction he was to go on, he shook the ideas pressuring his head that woul make him panic before he gets there, and focuses on rescuing his children as the city lights were flickering below him on a cloudless, starry night. 

And at the time he lowered himself from the top of the troposphere, he can make out one of the tallest and largest buildings in their city, which is the Membrane Labs. 

And it was _on fire_.

Now clearly panic-stricken, he went for a dive lower to the sky, seeing the blazing flames and crumbling walls of Membrane Labs, seemingly about to collapse entirely as he gains closer. His whole study of Science, history of inventions, gone in a matter of mere minutes. The place where he began to change the world for the better place, where he is famed for his big achievements, where he was finally recognized for something he loved. 

And where the possibility of the downfall of his children. 

_Children-_

Right on cue, he notices at a distance. From meters away, a small frame had been thrown out of the building from its middle floor, now ready to plunge against the land from many feet away. 

He digitally enhanced the clarity of his goggles, and concentrates it on the- 

_God, no._

The familiar black trench coat is there, along with the blue shirt of a cartoon ghost for a child’s size to wear. But what sold him out is the falling frame that had the same haircut as he had.

Dib was plummeting to the ground, eyes closed, and splotches of red that were visible from his lens. 

In a split second, he nosedives down to reach his boy. His breath completely stopped running, his eyes won’t blink for his boy not to fade from his sight. His arms are outstretched, ready for his son to land in him as he glides faster and closer to him. The boy wasn’t flailing or thrashing from the fact he was in the air without any jetpacks or flying transportation he could use. He wasn’t _moving_ at all. His son is soon reaching on the land, where he can see blue and red lights with their emergency ambulance blaring. 

Membrane did not stop going down too. 

His meters from the ground was decreasing faster than Dib’s fall, having hope to get there before his son goes first. 

Each passing second feels like an hour, a day, or longer. As long as his son kept falling, he felt like he had failed him by predicting his death. He felt that each second was a waste and wished he teleported instead, just to make it in time before all of this ever happened. But for once, just once, his hope won’t decimate in front of his eyes. 

He just hoped that a ‘wish’ of saving his boy would never be scientific, but for something much more than that. Something proved to be true despite not logically the truth. 

It was love, wasn’t it? 

At the point his meters decreased to hundreds, Dib was too uncomfortably close to the land. 

And then, at a speed of light, he felt a weight. 

He felt a weight unto his arms. 

He immediately maneuvered away from the ground and from the crippling construction, flying far from the below and the disaster. And as he dreaded a moment, he feared he hallucinated him. He looked down fearfully and slowly, to see his _son_ laying on his arms. 

He stared at him momentarily, watching it if it was real, if Dib was real. He carefully released his one arm to check his pulse on the neck whilst the other held Dib tight, the technological hand scanning him. It transferred to his goggles, the hologram popped up. The lines of the heartbeats weren’t flat straight. They were faint bumps of the beats, too faint but can be called alive. He’s alive. Dib’s alive and here and real. 

“God, I’m so sorry, Dib. I’m sorry,” He blurted it all out, swelling tears flowing inside his goggles, few managed to spill out to his cheeks. He put back his arm and carried his own poor, insane son close. This reminded him terribly of Laureen. The way he grieved over senseless apologies despite holding onto her corpse at that faithful day. Right now, he's doing it again, murmuring senseless apologies. This time, fortunately, he wasn’t dead. He’s actually, unbelievably, still living. 

The word ‘senseless’, however, signified that he wasn’t sure if it showed to last long. If he would try to set his boy free even though what happened here that scared him and his boy to death, metaphorically and literally, he would be a frantic parent all day wondering if his son wouldn’t come back. He wouldn’t want another loss. He doesn’t want to, because if he did, he can’t live with it. Because these children are the only reminders of his wife. 

He wouldn’t want a part of his wife to be lost in less than a decade of living. 

_Easier said than done_ , as they all quoted.

He will have to think about that later, now that Dib is in need of medical assistance. He gazed down at the scene laid near the building. 

Well, the supposed building of Membrane Labs. Now it was just a demolished construction site. The years of hard work put inside that Lab, had Membrane hurt from his childhood self and present self. The dedication, sweat, and blood given to this masterpiece, all gone and destroyed. 

Except for his true creations. They're still here. Alive and not technically well, but alive nonetheless. 

Speaking of his creations in plural form, his other child- 

Gaz was there, too. At one of the van ambulances, his daughter was sitting on the trunk of the vehicle, covered with their serviced blanket, and was staring upwards. Up to where Membrane was hovering in the air, with a living being of a son on his arms. Membrane was finally able to breathe when he instantly saw Gaz well-taken care by the paramedics, wiping the damp face off of himself. As for the other medical staff just tending to other employees of his, the scientists from IGE seemed much more different than yesterday’s meeting in the facility. He can quite recollect the people in there weren’t as malnourished and poorly hygienic as the last time’s meeting. It’s strange, but that was forgotten when he sees the crowd looking at him, looks of confusion and concern. 

The boots’ ignition was lowering down, slowly descending to the ground and quickly got engulf within masses of paparazzi and fewer medical staff trying to seek Membrane’s attention. In which Membrane totally gave full attention to the minority, excusing the reporters away. But they weren’t breaking apart from the circle they made to corner the professor. 

Distressed and concerned for his son’s life, he yelled, “All of you please! Step. Out. Of. My. Way.”

That got most of the reporters quiet, obviously haven't seen their only memorable celebrity in town mad. Fame doesn’t matter for him right now. 

The silent communicative glare of the professor resulted in a lot of people around him move away, allowing Membrane to briskly walk towards the medics. 

He went to the nearest one, who was trying to seek his attention seconds ago. “Please, my son needs help,” He practically begged for it, knowing the medic would abide by the orders either different tones of his voice. 

Hence, a stretcher prepared for his son, carrying him away from his father’s grasp. He was tempted on regretting it, wanting to bring him back, but that won’t solve anything. 

Not after he could now understandably see the injuries Dib had endured. 

He hadn’t noticed all of his injuries back when he held him. He was only focused if his boy still has a heartbeat, still has that small prick of hope that he lives. And he did, but the wounds weren’t easy to see, at least for him. 

His face was tainted with debris, water, and blood. There were cuts on his lip, a swollen bump on the head, and grazes of the rocks that he had possibly been hit by. Almost of the whole shirt of blue turned scarlet red, some blackened in the middle of the chest. Just where the recent patched injury on his ribs and gash, was re-opened. 

Membrane managed to give a small inaudible gasp, seeing his son without the dirtied coat and shirt. All it laid was dried blood, but some were new and dripping down the body of a child. 

The worst part is that the internal part could be no better than this. Internal bleeding, fractured bones, too much blood loss. Anything that could be fatal.

He swallowed a lump on his throat when his son on the stretcher was sent to the emergency vehicle, most medical professionals were crowding the poor boy in blood. He was frozen under his feet, staring as they had put small suction units and putting the BVM, making sure his boy will keep breathing. He stood while the people behind him were being restricted to go any further by some policemen, hearing their loud irritating questions for their news outlets. But what does he have to say? Obviously, he doesn’t know what to do. He was nowhere near the vicinity when it happened. 

Though, the only witnesses were the night shift employees and the IGE scientists, at least. 

He didn’t realize he was zoning out until someone was tugging his lab coat. His dazed eyes towards his boy on a stretcher turned into his daughter Gaz, looking up at him with repressed frustration and teary-eyed on her face. 

The father kneeled one foot to see his daughter conflicted when he put both of his hands to her small shoulders. He looked at Gaz, now noticing her own injuries as well. There are some swollen bruises on her face, the cuts on her neck, and red marks scraped on her arms. Although some of them were bandaged with medical strips, he still could see Gaz just looked like she went into war. Which may have happened, but he’s not sure yet. Even if she didn’t, he couldn’t unsee the state his child was in. 

Ignoring the people around, he pulled her into a hug. 

Such a foreign affection for him to do. How long had he forgotten to love his children, after the years of his love of Science? Had he not promised his wife to do his very best to be there for his loved ones? 

He knows parenting is hard, and at times tiring to do, that he could all just wash it away with materialistic love of something else that wasn’t going to last. Even so, there were, at times, worth from those enervating days of care. The two-year-old Dib with his toothy smile when he goes home, somehow alleviates Membrane’s stress from work. Gaz's first laugh felt like he had achieved something great for once. And those rare times where they have family dinners that _actually_ is a family dinner. It made Membrane ache the moments that his wife had given to him those decades ago. 

And so, he stays kneeling, comforting the daughter who tries to hide her emotions, though hearing slight sniffles in his coat. 

* * *

Dib really felt like a ton of bricks hit him right now. 

Just as he stirs from the solace of nothingness, he felt like he had been slammed by a truck, ramming him that results to a severe brain damage, which may not be far from the truth. Because that’s what it feels like, waking up with a heavy migraine. His eyes were still closed, not wanting to open at the moment, and can’t stifle a groan when he tried to get his hand to massage the head. It felt like an anvil just set down at his arm, unable to lift it further, or ever at all. The sound he made gave him incoherent murmurs from the side, and from what he heard, there were like a couple or three people chatting. The consequence of it was his migraine worsening. With the failed attempt of putting his hand to use, he tried telling the people to stop talking, but instead gave another pained sound. 

The next thing he knew, a new set of chatters had entered the room, and the lights were getting brighter from his enclosed eyelids. On instinct, he scrunched up his eyes tight, a grunt escaped from his mouth since it was hurting his eyes and his head was suffering from the sound vibrations. He squirms from the several hands touching him and putting something on his face, trying to move further away from the murmurs growing into loud hollers. 

And then a small hand grasped his own, squeezing it. He relaxed a little, knowing someone was there to comfort him from the blinding lights, even though he doesn't know who it is. But he can tell by the small hand it was most likely Gaz's.

He sensed his wrist being pricked by something sharp, provoking Dib to groan at the agony from everything on his body. 

By the time the loud gibberish fades, he feels like he wanted to sleep, his mind wanting to rest from the exhaustion. Her hand squeezed him again, another sign of assurance that he’s gonna be fine. At least, that’s what he thinks she was trying to convey. But he’s satisfied with it. 

He fell asleep, the torment of his body was lessening as he finally got his mind blank. 

The next wake-up call was another annoying sound near him. Though that wasn’t talking, but music. A familiar, video game music. 

Dib opens his eyes slowly, broadening as he observed the area he’s in. The first thing he felt was unimaginable, continuous pain. Like he had been squashed by a building, or maybe hit by a train. Or just anything that makes it painful. 

Aside from that, what he first saw was Gaz, just beside him and his bed, sitting on a plastic chair and playing her video game. She didn’t seem to notice he was awake, too busy on beating a level. He’s fine with it, all the while he scans the room. Everything was painted white, looking clean and tidy. There was some contraption at some places, soon recognizing those were from hospitals. There’s a window on his right side, curtained with a peach flower theme. Dib was still perplexed, his brain wasn’t turning gears to be able to grasp what or why he was doing here. Or what is here. 

“You’re in a hospital, obviously,” Gaz suddenly talked, slightly startling him from the fact he’d been noticed. Dib just groaned, from the frustration and the lack of energy to even make a word. He wheeled his sight to Gaz, who settled her game unto the bedside, now looking at him with a pensive look. He got uncomfortable when she looked like she was scrutinizing his face, seeing if he changes any emotions but a cranky child just woke from the wrong side of the bed. 

“You feel anything painful? Arm? Leg?” Gaz bluntly asked, also sounded uncomfortable for asking.

So, in spite of a headache every time he makes a sound, he spoke with a very hoarse voice, “Everything is pain.” Was all he could at the moment, since it’s true. Everything about his body is in pain and in distress. 

He views the area again when Gaz gave him a hum of satisfaction, later telling him she has to go out to call a doctor. He waves her goodbye and muses on what happened, wanting to figure out himself the reason he was in the hospital with seemingly a lot of injuries. 

But all he can remember was the last time he was awake, about hands prodding his personal space and fiddling with his wrist and face. The only thing that was constant is his suffering on the discomfort and the soreness of his weak small body. He realized that he has something patched to his wrist, where it was specifically pricked on. It was a small tube connecting to a standing IV bag, probably giving him fluids or something that hydrates him while he slept. There was also some kind of tube filter on his nose, enabling him to breathe better than the last time he felt like he hadn’t. 

Suddenly, he heard talking and swiveled his head to see three people just came into the room. There is the doctor, Gaz, and the person he doesn’t really want to see today, Dad. 

“Just give him a few more days and he’ll be taken out of the ICU. I’m sure you’re a very strong kid,” The doctor encouraged at Dib with a soft smile, later him returning the gesture, albeit a little fake. After another chat between the two adults about his treatment and prescriptions and Gaz going back to her game, the doctor stepped out, waving at his father good luck. Which he really needs one, right now since Dib isn’t gonna talk to him that easy. If his grudge towards his father can last months, then he can still do it for a few more. 

“How are you feeling, son?” Membrane quietly said, sitting down another plastic chair just beside. Dib didn’t reply for a minute, face fell vacant, and averting his sight somewhere else. The tension grew and the atmosphere was thin like last time they’ve talked this serious. Until Membrane had given up questioning his son, taking on another topic. 

“Do you recall anything about what happened?” He asked, concern layered on his tone. Dib was about to scoff it off, up to the point he had been curious about what had transpired last time before any of this happened.

Giving it a thought, he responded with a shake of his head, still not looking at him. He listened as his father sighed, giving himself for a few seconds before he explained it all out. 

“You remember about having a rescue mission for your friend?” He seemed to hate the word ‘friend’ when he said that, but Dib didn’t bother to delve into it when it all came back like an ocean wave. The pinpricks of memories on the plans, the never-ending hallways, and the files about aliens. Everything came back like newfound information. And it spiked his adrenaline when he wildly searched the room, realizing _Zim_ wasn’t here. 

Dad seemed to notice his panic and tried soothing him by a hand to the shoulder. Dib immediately swatted it away, eyes desperate and scared. “Where’s Zim?! What did you do to him?!” 

“Son, calm down-“ 

“We can’t find him.” 

Both males froze, different expressions displayed when Gaz spoke up. Professor Membrane’s look was guilty, pity, and shame. While Dib stared at Gaz, the dread and disbelief were evidently showing. Gaz couldn’t even look up at him, only telling him, “The Membrane Labs collapsed, and we can’t find any trace of him in it.” 

“B-But he’s still alive, right? You can’t find anybody. It means he’s still alive, right?” He choked out, tears threatening to spill. Gaz had her focus on the console, saying a blunt, “We don’t know.” 

“Dib,” Dad started. Dib wanted him to stop talking, but he can’t say it out loud. His mind going overdrive. “We don’t know if those from inside of the building could ever survive. The chances are low, son.” 

“He’s not dead! You’re not looking at him enough!” Dib ferociously shouted at him, but the despair was in it too. 

“Dib, I’ve told you before, getting attached to that alien is dangerous,” Membrane warned, which made Dib was very ticked off. 

“He’s my friend!” 

“The moment you let your guard down, he won’t be.” 

“What do you know? You were never there.” 

Professor Membrane abruptly paused, later trying to open his mouth to speak. 

He didn’t. 

He was hesitating, and Dib couldn’t tell by the pensive look on his face. He doesn’t know if his dad was regretting his words by the fact that he struck him with another ‘you abandoned me’ card or it was something else. 

Dib scoffed from the silent response, fuming. He plans on getting Zim back, and he’s not gonna wait here and wish for it. Thus, he tried scurrying away from his bed that got two people riled up against him, and puts him back to where he is. 

“You idiot, you’re still in ICU.” 

“Your sister is right, you aren’t good for walking yet.” 

He thrashed from his bed as they held him down, yelling at them, “Let me go! He’s still there! If you won’t help me, I’ll do it myself. So let me go!” Even though, his whole body felt like it’s been pinned by tons of needles. But his friend is what matters at the moment.

Dib had gone berserk from their grips and rebukes, enraged and livid that they had to call for the nurses to put a sedative on him. He screamed at them to let him go again, kicking them out. The effects were that the tubes taped at him had been inadvertently plucked out, making the nurses and his family worry even more. But he wasn’t focused on that, he’s more worried about someone that’s not in this room. He’s freaking out because he’ll be lonely again, and he doesn’t want to accept it. He’s scared that he’ll go back to the same depressing routine of being an alone paranormal obsessed child. He’s afraid that he won’t get to be understood ever again. 

His heart sped up when the sedative was injected despite his reasonable tantrum to avoid the syringe.

He can feel its liquid flowing, working when his anger melting away and his strength weakening. Finally, they had him under control, letting Dib fall into unconsciousness.

* * *

“Dib, eat it, now.” 

“What’s the point?” 

“Starvation. That’s the point. Eat.” 

Dib grumbled in discontent, reluctantly consuming each spoon of a pulpy potato. 

His days of staying in the hospital felt like ages rather than a week. All he could ever do is sleep and eat, not giving him any form of entertainment. If he attempts escaping the bed, either Gaz or Dad will push the button for those nurses to put him back to his place. It’s frustrating to no end. Until he doesn't wanna feel anything anymore. 

A couple of days ago was all Dib’s outburst and meltdowns. His father and sister made an effort to comfort him, soothe him, calm him with words and hugs. It helped alright, since Dib was full of crumpled emotions that he can’t think right. Even for his father’s own hugs, he blindly accepted it, feeling like he had wanted this for all of the years of no affection. It was as he had disregarded the fight between them, ignoring the realization that Membrane was a terrible father and should deserve no love from his children. 

However, Dib couldn’t resist it at the time. 

He was desperate, broken-hearted, and sorrowful. He wants someone there for him, someone to keep him grounded after the one who should’ve been keeping him fine was currently dead. 

Now, Dib has a clear mind. He doesn’t have those mental breakdowns anymore, wishing for not being vulnerable. Especially, not in front of Dad. Although that didn't really matter, because Dad’s visits were reducing, saying about the lawsuits, casualties, and constructing a new improved Membrane building. He assured he would be visiting from time to time, but Dib didn’t care. It’s typical of him to say that to his own son. Broken promises are already broken, and can’t be replaced. 

“Dib, just swallow the food,” Gaz encouraged with her usual grumpy, vexed voice. 

The said boy swallowed the potato forcefully and uttered to her, “You don’t need to tell me how eating works.” 

“Apparently, you do. You have records of spitting it out when we don’t look at you swallowing it.” 

Dib huffed, eating another chunk of the food. Dad wasn’t visiting today, according to Gaz, which made him relieved. He doesn’t want another tension, not since his brain can easily ache. His sister can stay overnight, to which for Dib, was kind of comforted that Gaz chose to. 

“Did you find Gir yet?” Dib asked out of the blue, with a hopeful tone for the first time in a long time after a week. Gaz didn’t seem to mind, looking like she had known the question was coming. “Nope.” 

It was all she needed to say, and Dib just went back to munching his food, albeit deflated. 

For the past few nights, he would sometimes ask where would Gir be, knowing that she told him about the robot was set free. 

She gave the explanation for all the stuff he had missed. Telling him about the real scientists were stuck in some tight room and met Zim and Gir. She knew how the fire started and said that the cause was about the types of machinery inside the building were exploded due to some unknown force. She had been ordered by Zim to just lead the scientists out of the place and let him find Dib at the time. She agreed to it alongside with Gir, but when they all got out, she tells him that the robot was nowhere to be found. 

It was odd that Gir’s disappearance is a mystery. 

Supposedly, that robot should be getting some ice cream or tacos further away from Gaz or Dib’s sight, and come back with angry owners chasing them. But now, he was completely out of their range for a week, not knowing how to get him back home. Gaz tried searching for him, just for Dib’s sake of not being ‘annoying’ of asking questions to where the SIR unit is. 

Dib went back to his solemn and somber look, like he always has been since Zim wasn’t here. 

Their time spent together on playing games and sleeping it off wasn’t that bad. It gave Dib to contemplate when the comfortable silence between them stretched, just pleased with her company. Though, it wasn’t as much as enjoyable of what Dib described. He isn’t getting any happier whenever Gaz tries to make him enjoy stuff that he likes. He had heard that has been going distant and looking at nothing. Those times were Dib dissociating from reality, said to be common from trauma and grief. Which is admittedly true. He’s still on stage four of grief, but he’s not sure if he’ll ever move past it. 

“Are you gonna go home?” Dib asks his sister. She shrugged, her eyes still entranced from her game. He notices the clock ticking to ten in the night, and sighs to get her attention. 

Gaz grumbled, “Yeah, or else dad’s gonna push the curfew for the worse if I don’t.” 

“Makes sense.” Dib crossed his arms, realizing the sting of the weakened state of his body too late. Dad has been very busy with the renovations and government control after what had gone wrong on his rescue mission. He did his best to be with his children, but he wouldn’t try to confront their long time tension. Dib doesn’t want to forgive him yet. 

“You’re not gonna jump onto the window while I'm gone for several hours, are you?” Gaz said suspiciously at him. 

Dib scratched the back of his neck, sheepishly answering, “I'll try not to.” Because last time, he literally jumped out of the window, without knowing he was on the 23rd floor of the hospital and he doesn’t have the brainpower to comprehend what he was doing. He was kind of glad that Dad was there to save him from dropping on another building. Embarrassing and frightening, but somewhat a fun experience due to a fresh air hitting his face. 

“You better not,” She growled and Dib shrunk a bit, still scared by Gaz glowering. She hopped off the chair, walking out with a reluctant goodnight. He returned the same and then he was alone once again. 

As a child of a neglectful parent, he can quite be an independent person if he wanted to be. At times, he needs parental guidance, and there are some for his emotional needs. It did not fulfill, sadly, but his confidence in himself to survive alone was enough. Staying here isn’t gonna be a problem. 

The only thing that he can only do in this situation was sleep. 

And that he did. 

Until he senses a weight on the bedside, then a hand touching his forehead. 

He realized that the hand is sharp. 

Dib slowly opens his eyes, starting with a bleary view of the room, since he was just woken up by probably just a few hours on his supposed eight-hour sleep. There was a new color on his vision. It looked like a pink and green blob. That blob was the one who owned the hand, and its ruby-colored eyes were gazing at-

_Wait-_

Dib sat upright, suddenly jolted when he felt a weight sitting on his legs. The figure who was in front backed away a bit, and Dib didn’t need glasses to see who was in front of him. 

“Wha- _Zim_?” His voice cracked, full of dismay and disbelief. He was musing about it, thinking this was all a dream that his brain decided to pick and toy his feelings. Or maybe this is another hallucination like last time his mind was confuzzled. He was literally going insane, just like everyone says. 

From the blurry vision, he can see the alien morphing his face from seemingly a sullen one to beaming with pride. “Yes, it is I, Zim! You’d think Zim is going to die from a stupid falling building? You thought wrong, Dib-worm! Zim doesn’t lose from a crumbling building.” It had the same ear-splitting, full-mouthed, annoying voice that Dib could absolutely identify who it’s from. 

However, he can’t trust his mind. He had already done that and it tricked him. He’ll just play with his own tears. He’ll cry and break to no end till Dad comes in to hug him. He just _can’t_ _._

“Are you really here?” Dib tried to be stern, but his voice was already quaking. He doesn’t want to believe it. He feared for the day he would go insane, and this may be it.

Zim looked confused. “Have the Dib-worm gone blind? Of course, I’m here!”

“How? How can you prove you’re real?” 

The alien was exasperatedly stumped, as if Dib was deranged. In which, it may be true.

When the green creature wouldn’t try and prove himself it wasn’t just a figment of imagination for the following seconds, Dib does what any person would do if they’re unsure if they were dreaming or not. 

Dib slapped the alien’s face. 

Okay, maybe that’s not the right method. He failed to think of pinching himself, but it won’t get any good results. Sometimes he can hallucinate than dream, so pinching won't do any good if he's just awake.

Zim’s face was contorted with shock, not knowing what to express on what just occurred. 

And Dib felt it. He felt he really touched him and slapped him. It felt _surreal._

“Why you little sniveling worm baby!” Zim looked like he wants to strangle the boy, but Dib was too entranced from the fact that Zim _is_ really here, screaming at him like usual. 

“Zim will absolutely kill you right no-“ 

“Hiya Mary!”

Another familiar voice that he hasn’t heard for a long time was here. From the window sill, a tiny robot just jumped inside the room, crashing down the floor with giggles. Gir insanely waved at Dib while he just lays there. 

Zim turns to his robot, “GIR! What did I tell you about keeping an eye outside?!” 

“You diiiiid~?” 

“Yes, GIR!” 

“Oohhh, okay! Bye Mary!” 

In an instant, the robot was out of the room, jumping back outside. He swore he heard clanking and plastic being landed, with a cat screeching afterward. It was probably a trash bin. 

Dib looks back at Zim with pure incredulity, who shoved him something from his face. Relieved that it was his glasses had been worn to him, although a little uncomfortable that it wasn’t put right. He can finally get to see Zim clearly. The alien crosses his arms, looking a little peeved. The anger was valid, though, since he just suddenly slapped his face. 

“Well?” Zim says, cocking his non-existential eyebrow, like he was expecting something. 

“Wh-What?” Dib stammered, dumbfounded. 

“Are you gonna apologize to Zim?”

“Oh.” Dib slightly tilts his head away, abashed. “S-Sorry, Zim.” 

“That’s more like it! Now thank me next, for saving you pitiful worthless baby life.” 

“What?” 

“Ugh!” Zim facepalmed, which made Dib shift from the awkwardness that he’s still stumped that he’s alive. “Do I have to spell every English word for your hearing aids and small-minded brain? Zim has saved your weak human body from a weak human-made building.”

“But I thought Dad was the one who saved me,” Dib countered, sending him an offended look after the insult. 

“Wrong! Eh… well, not exactly. I threw you off the building.” 

“What-“ 

“Relax, worm-boy. Zim knew your stupid ugly parental unit would save you.” 

Oh, that's the reason why he was outside. Dad didn’t really fill in the gaps of how did he get to fall through a great height, neither did he for that matter. 

“If that’s so, where were you? What happened to you?” Now that he wears his glasses, he can scrutinize the alien's state, which he looked like he had been rammed by several vehicles, dirtied and severely injured. He has a grazes on his face and cuts on his uniform, eyes were lopsided.

He looked like an alien beggar. It would've been funny if it weren't for Dib's gloomy mood.

Zim looks to where Dib is glancing at, which is his poor condition he was in. He scoffed by the concern. “Getting hit by concrete isn’t gonna really kill me, Dib-stink. I am practically invincible!” He boasts, smiling with pride Too much pride. 

Dib couldn’t stifle a deadpan stare towards his overconfidence. “What about water?” 

“I survived that toxic liquid, stupid smeet.” 

“Yeah right, until it lasts longer. It’ll burn you to crisps.” 

“Will not happen! I am the elite Irken invader!” 

“Funny." He thought about the last three months of Zim commanding Dib to bring food every day like he can't live without them.

When Dib felt no energy to argue of petty insults, he had one thing he was yearning of doing before he can fall asleep, because it’s three in the night and his mind is desiring to shut down. 

“Hey, Zim?” 

“What?” He was slightly annoyed due to their midway of insulting each other. Zim learned to have boundaries and sat on the edge of the bed, only turning his head to face him. Dib exhales, partly shy for the upcoming request. 

“Can I- uhm- hug you?” He knew what Zim’s expression would be. And it was staring at him with a disgusted look. “And why would you think I would ever agree to that?” 

Dib got a little ashamed by it. After all, he just had known Zim isn’t dead and just wants to reassure himself from knowing he _is_ here. He should’ve known better that Zim isn’t really the affectionate type of guy. 

“Nothing. Just nothing.” He shifts his blanket to make himself cozier. The alien sends him a look, but Dib ignores it. He talks on the other important topics, ‘cause if he stays on questioning the hug, they’ll go in a vicious cycle of banter about him being sappy again. 

“So, what are you going to do now?” 

“Eh?” 

“I mean, you’re kinda free from being a lab experiment. You can do anything you want, like enslaving my planet?” Dib hadn’t put much thought on how he would deal Zim if he’s out of the cell. He could either start world domination without him knowing, which worried Dib that he might’ve put Earth in danger. He was so engrossed in breaking the alien out of the torture that he didn’t dwell on the consequences. 

“Well, you see, that’s the problem,” Zim pauses, seemingly hesitant of resuming. Dib nodded as a form of granting him to speak further, which Zim did after the few seconds. “Zim has decided that of your _assistance_ ,” He spat the last word, loathing it greatly.

“For what?” Dib was curious and interested. Zim had never wanted his help willingly. He only does that times when Dib pushes him to be helped. He was certain that this wouldn’t involve his world’s destruction because he had already imprinted that on Zim’s brain that he won’t be a helper of the operation. 

“My base is still compromised. And there’s no way in, except sneaking very carefully inside and avoiding the many scientists-robots invading around MY property. But I can’t that do that since I’m not too keen on sneaking -NOT because I’m not good. Zim is just tempting to kill every bit of human-robot after what they had done. Also BUT, I could not go for violence because my PAK legs are damaged.” 

Despite the opportunity to call it out that it was a bad excuse to avert his lack of skills in stealth, Dib just centered his focus on the Pak. Since the Pak is basically his life support and if it is broken, he doesn’t know what will be the effects of Zim’s life. 

“What happened to the Pak?” 

Zim demonstrates the damage by letting his back face towards Dib. The boy was terribly disturbed. The Pak was extremely impaired. The holes of it were sticking out, dangling from its cords. The shell of it was cracked, ashes were measly spread out. There is only one broken Pak leg that was also poking out from one of the holes. Dib cringed at the sight. If his support this devastated, then he eerily pondered about Zim’s health. 

“The only way I can fix this is by going to my main base underground and find my computer. But I can’t do that unless I’m-” Zim begrudgingly sighed, muttering curses in Irken, “-in a need of your assistance.” 

"How about Gir?"

"GIR... has little skills in helping this scheme. He may as well be part of what you call side of lines."

"You mean, sidelines?"

"Yes, yes, whatever that is. The point is, _Dib_ , is the assistance thingy."

He asked the important question, wary that it might backfire, “How would I know this isn’t involving my planet being enslaved?”

“Zim doesn’t have the time to do that, yet.” 

“Then, how could I trust you?” 

“Fine! We make another truce pertaining to your pathetic little planet and my base. Can you finally aid me?” 

Dib considers his choices. 

He could either let Zim fend for himself to get fix his own problem, which would result in Dib feeling awfully guilty of it, but still sorta proud he saved the Earth from the Irken’s hands. Or, he would concur to the truce and both will be satisfied. Until one of them won’t be. 

Unfortunately, his emotions got to him. His desperation and the fear of abandonment manifesting from the grief he had gone through. 

“Alright... it's a deal.” 

He doesn’t know what the future holds for him and Zim, but he has a feeling it’s gonna be good. 

It’s just a feeling, though. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a continuation, though I don't know when to post it. I can try and not leave ya'll hanging. 
> 
> For now, I could have my spare time revising the chapters cuz my 2-month younger self sucks at grammar. My present self might be, too.


End file.
